Harry Potter and the Obsidian Chest
by Xarkun
Summary: Sequel to HP and the Emerald Sword, Voldemort is back, and he is gathering forces. Harry must fight with a disadvantage. He’s lost all credibility. The Dark Lord moves quickly, and the Obsidian Chest holds the key, it must be found before time runs out.
1. Cursed

_**Well, I did not want to wait too long to post this. I don't have nearly as much chapters done as I would like, but I wanted this up by the end of February at least, March 1**__**st**__** isn't too bad then is it? **_

_**So welcome my readers, to what you've all had me on your author alert list for, the sequel to Harry Potter and the Emerald Sword. Note for any new readers that this **__**is a sequel**__**, if you have not read the original Harry Potter and the Emerald Sword I suggest you do so before reading this. Now, I have many things planned for this, and this shall be more subtle than the prequel, welcome to the Third Wizarding War, readers. Enjoy.**_

_**Full Summary: Lord Voldemort has returned, and he is gathering forces. Meanwhile, Harry must fight with an extreme disadvantage. He's lost all credibility. The Dark Lord moves quickly, and the Obsidian Chest holds the key, if only it can be found before time runs out.**_

_Harry Potter and the Obsidian Chest _

_Chapter 1: Cursed _

Winter of last year had passed quietly after a dark Christmas, when Lord Voldemort had returned. The school year then had ended well enough, considering events that had transpired which would drastically alter many aspects of Harry Potter's life. Most days it was normal, or it appeared to be so from an outside view. Mr. Potter was merely the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, he was also head of the Auror Office, though that aspect of his career was kept in the dark more so than his status as the wizarding school.

Yes, things were completely normal to the spectator on the outside. However, one on the inside would notice that Harry Potter's level of stress had been increasing exponentially by the month since that horrible winter had gone by. He was constantly ordering the Auror Office around in secret, and consecutively covering up his tracks from prying eyes when one task after another was completed, or not completed, the latter of which happened much more often. Percy's secret war had not been effective in terms of victory, though the Minister could grimly state that no one who ought not to know knew a thing.

True enough, events has gone according to the Minster of Magic's plan. No one suspected anything, there had been a murder four months ago, but it had been concluded to be unrelated to any of the escapee Death Eaters from Azkaban, all of whom were now following their resurrected leader's every order, none of which were unclear. They drew no public attention, at least until three months ago.

That is when Harry began to lose his sanity.

Three months ago to the day, a man had been murdered, a reasonably high ranking member of the Ministry of Magic, a worker from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had been found dead on a red velvet armchair in his own home, killed by the Avada Kedavra curse. The official story was that no one had any idea who could have done it; the usual suspects were one of the Death Eaters, and that's what stood now, or did not. Harry was not sure he knew, for that murder had been remarkable, distinguished from the meaningless death a month earlier. Over that man's house, when he was found dead, the Dark Mark had lit up the black night sky with its emerald glow, and the victim had not only been killed by the Avada Kedavra curse, but his eyes had been closed by the fingers of the killer, and he had been covered with a white sheet from his own bed.

Two more murders in the months following had matched the same description. Both victims were high ranking members of the Ministry of Magic, both had been found dead inside their houses, Dark Marks ablaze at the scene, and both had been covered by the sheets of their own bed. It was a signature by the murderer, and it drove Harry Potter absolutely crazy. The Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort obviously knew of Percy's secret war, and they were not making the deception easy to nurture. They were _playing_ with those in the Ministry who knew, namely Harry, Percy, and trusted members of the Auror Office (of course the staff of Hogwarts was aware too), the rest were made to believe whatever they could be made to. Harry was too busy trying to find Lord Voldemort, however, to deal with such matters. That task proved just as impossible as last time.

Malfoy Manor was deserted. The trail ended there with the bodies of Narcissa and Pansy Parkinson Malfoy.

If it was of any significance, the general public was five steps past suspicious, and the overriding majority was expressing their dislike of Harry running the Auror Office. They craved resolution to those murders, peace of mind, and the Head Auror could not provide it to them truthfully, all because of the Minister's insistence that the war would better be fought behind an iron veil.

Harry Potter sat in his office within the castle of Hogwarts. He ran his hands through his hair which he had expected would be completely gray now; after all he'd been through. At least the public was not detesting his position as the school, how could they? Grades had been improved dramatically in O.W.L.s. Whether that was because of Harry, or his students, the Headmaster did not know.

He hoped it was his students, and that they would be able to learn under Draco Malfoy as their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. They had no choice, because as much as Malfoy had plagued his life in the past, Harry would not let him or his son back out into the open where they could easily be murdered by Lord Voldemort. In the Headmaster's experience, Voldemort ran his army like a lifelong, crime-ridden business, if an employee left, or lost loyalty, they were… terminated. Neither the new Professor, nor his son would be thrown into that position so long as Harry remained Headmaster.

Potter sat back upon the chair in his office, he spun it with the use of magic to face the gloriously large portrait behind him, it was empty, free of Dumbledore.

Harry had arrived at Hogwarts just hours ago, the sun was now setting upon the mountains surrounding the school. Term started tomorrow, and Ablus, James, and Lily would be arriving on the Hogwarts Express. They would have come with him today, but things had just not worked out. The only student in the castle walls was Scorpious Malfoy who Harry had not seen at all during his trek from the Entrance Hall to his office, then again, what were the chances of catching the boy? He was probably shut up in the Slytherin common room reading, or partaking in something of that nature.

Potter spun his chair back into its proper position, then stood, ready to exit the place, he'd only come to speak with Dumbledore who was _conveniently_ absent. Harry had other matters to attend to.

As his legs locked, and he was on his feet, a knock sounded upon the door. It was stiff, and rapping, loud. Harry fell back upon his seat.

"Enter," he called.

The Headmaster was surprised to see the door to his office burst open and, if it had not been for the enchantments placed upon it, it would have slammed into the wall. Professor McGonagall flew in as though the hounds of hell were on her heels, she carried in her right hand a rolled up newspaper which she was gripping rather tightly. Her wrinkled, elderly face looked more surprised then Harry had ever seen it in his lifetime, at the same time it seemed to fulfill the definition, to the utmost highest, of the word cross.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall addressed tartly. "Have you seen the morning edition of the _Prophet_?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, Professor," said Harry. He drew his wand and flicked it once, a comfortably cushioned chair materialized behind McGonagall. "May I offer you a seat?"

"Thank you," the Transfiguration Professor replied swiftly as she sat down, the paper across her lap now.

"You were saying something about the _Prophet_," said Harry somewhat grimly. He had been avoiding the newspaper all summer, ever since they had hired Rita Skeeter again, the credibility of the paper had been, in Harry's mind, tarnished.

"I was," McGonagall said stiffly. "No one _reported_ anything to you?"

"Should they have?"

"Yes, I would think so."

"What exactly are you trying to say, Professor?"

"I am trying to say that for an estimated two months, Dolores Umbridge has been under the influence of the Imperius Curse. The article is right on the front page Headmaster, authored by that Skeeter woman. To make matters worse, Dolores claims to have seen Lord Voldemort."

Harry snatched the _Prophet _from McGonagall's outstretched hand and unrolled it so quickly that it might have ripped. There it was, upon the front page, a large picture of Dolores Umbridge who looked pale, even in black and white, and an article wrapped around it by Rita Skeeter. Harry read.

_**MINISTRY OF MAGIC OFFICIAL UNDER THE IMPERIUS CURSE**_

_**By staff writer Rita Skeeter**_

_Breaking news! Yesterday, a Ministry of Magic official who declines to be named confronted senior secretary to the Minister, Dolores J. Umbridge whom he had suspected was under the influence of Dark Magic for the past few weeks. This reporter has been authorized to report that the official works in close proximity with Umbridge and had been observing her slightly unusual behavior for days. When said official approached Umbridge to confront her, the secretary attacked him. _

_This prompted the official to run for the nearest Aurors in the proximity after subduing Umbridge. These Aurors were able to break what they conclusively conclude was the Imperius Curse, cast upon the secretary. After the curse was lifted, Umbridge reportedly mumbled the name of Bellatrix Lestrange over and over again. As you readers know, Bellatrix Lestrange was a former Death Eater in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She, along with nearly all other Death Eaters in Azkaban, escaped last year. _

_But this is not so shocking, that Lestrange would take control of a Ministry official for her own bidding. What is shocking is what else Umbridge had to say. Reported by one of the Aurors who broke the Imperius Curse upon her, Dolores Umbridge also claimed that she saw You-Know-Who along with Bellatrix Lestrange at least once! As of now, we do not know whether or not this is rumor or fact. _

_Umbridge is currently under evaluation in a secure ward at St. Mungo's Hospital. The press is calling for the Ministry to hold a conference between them on this matter. No word from the Minister yet, or Head Auror Harry Potter who was not to be found in office today, reasonable evidence suggests that he—_

Harry would not read any further, he tossed the paper lightly upon his desk and ran a hand across his forehead.

"Well?" McGonagall finally asked after lengthy moment of silence.

"What?" Harry snapped unintentionally, staring at her with hard eyes.

"With all due respect Potter, what the bloody hell are you going to _do_?!"

"Percy's idea of a secret war was moronic from the beginning, now it's ruined…. My job might be in jeopardy, Professor McGonagall, perhaps not as Headmaster, but certainly as Head Auror." Harry stated, half to himself, half for her benefit.

"I wish you good luck," said the Transfiguration Professor.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'm going to fly to London immediately; I have some questions as to why I was not alerted… could you send and owl to Ginny for me? I hope to be back by the start of term tomorrow night."

"Of course, Headmaster. Now if you'll excuse me, I must prepare lessons for the beginning of term, I shall send the letter shortly, and alert the rest of the staff."

"Thank you," said Harry gratefully. He remained seated as McGonagall stood, magicked her chair into oblivion, and strode in her dignified manner out of the office. Harry sighed; he was close behind her, bound for a different destination, London.

XxX

Water dripped from stalactites like green blood, illuminated eerily in the magic light which spawned from nowhere. Bellatrix Lestrange's shadow followed her from every conceivable angle, for light hit her at every direction as she trekked down a long, uneven natural passage. She arrived in a smaller nook at the end which formed a kind of large room. A fire was burning on the floor, emerald flames licked at everlasting logs, oily, black smoke rose into nothingness. Behind the burning blaze stood a chair, a simple, velvety green seat, and upon it sat Lord Voldemort.

The Dark Lord's chalk white face glowed green in the lighting of the nook, his red eyes stood out like beacons from their sockets. Voldemort, _her _Lord. Bellatrix kneeled before him dutifully, willfully, adoringly. He smiled lightly.

"There is no need my dear Bella, rise," said the Dark Lord.

"Thank you, _my _Lord," said the Death Eater slightly breathlessly as she stood.

"You have come…."

"To report, yes, of course my Lord. The curse on the Umbridge woman has been broken."

Voldemort nodded. "Good, I was wondering when the fools at the Ministry would finally see it."

"Yes, there is more, my Lord. Our newest follower is in place."

"Ah, yes, very good indeed. This war shall not be secret much longer, if it is not publically known already. It shall be won swiftly and simply. How is our recruitment coming?"

"Excellent, many, many students of Slytherin have been sympathetic to our cause, overjoyed that you have returned my Lord, it is an honor to bask in your presence."

"Indeed. Lord Voldemort demands the utmost respect, everyone shall be reminded of that again, and soon. The time has come, they will not stop us now, my dear Bellatrix."

_**It was a bit short… but it is an introduction…. Anyway, don't forget to drop in a comment. Thank you for reading the very first chapter of Harry Potter and the Emerald Sword's sequel, Harry Potter and the Obsidian Chest. I guarantee you, whatever you might be guessing the Obsidian Chest is, you are absolutely wrong, I believe it is utterly impossible for you to even come close to guessing, and I've got some great things planned for this fic.**_


	2. Meeting in London

_Chapter 2: Meeting in London_

Harry was drenched. He'd apparated into an alleyway near the employee's entrance to the Ministry of Magic to find that, in London, it had been pouring down rain. Soaking wet, and slightly irritated he made his way through the Atrium, receiving many stares as he went, and toward the Minister's office. There he was stopped by a witch wearing plum colored robes and a matching hat who was obviously the secretary.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," she said sourly. At that moment, Harry knew exactly what her opinion of him was. "Do you have an appointment?"

From her tone, the Head Auror knew that she knew he had nothing of the kind.

"I'm afraid not," Harry said coolly, which he manage off as professionally. He was sick of people criticizing him when they did not fully understand his position, and the entire wizarding population of Britain would have been enslaved by Lord Voldemort now, had it not been for him. Had everyone forgotten?

"Well, I am terribly sorry, but I cannot allow you to see the Minister without an appointment," the woman said sweetly, with a bitter touch.

"This is urgent," said Harry assertively, but not rudely.

"Well, without an appointment, I am afraid…"

"Look, I don't have an appointment, but this is important, I must speak with Minister Weasley, this involves…"

"The article in the _Prophet _this morning," finished the secretary. "Do you know I believe?"

"Frankly, I do not care," Harry snapped, dropping the façade of professionalism, and strained politeness. "My ranking within the Ministry is higher than your own; this is a matter vital to not only my security, but yours as well. I really need to see the Minister."

"As you wish, but I'll not lose my job for this."

Job. There was a word, in fact the only word that the secretary could say to Harry that had any weight. Her not-so-subtle bashes on his job performance carried no relevancy, only Rita Skeeter's attacks, or for that matter, the _Prophet's_ angered him, this woman was just misinformed. However, the status of his position in the Auror Office worried him. If the public discovered that not only Percy, but he himself knew of Voldemort and informed no one, he would certainly crash through the thin ice he was treading on already. Public opinion served as that ice, and once he went through, there was no coming back, the freezing waters below would paralyze him, and he'd be in a worse position facing the Dark Lord.

The woman allowed him to pass. Harry strode up to the large, oak, double doors that served as entry to the Minister's office. He grabbed each polished brass handle and pulled back. Revealed before him was a spacious room, Percy sat at the end, behind a lavish desk, four chairs in front of it. A high ranking delegate of the Wizengamot adorned each one, all eyes averted from their original positions to examine Harry who stepped him immediately.

The doors shut quietly behind him and, for a moment, no one made a move to conjure him up a seat. No one spoke.

"Hello Mr. Potter," said Percy finally. "Why have you come here?"

"Did you see the paper this morning?" Harry asked, it was enough of an answer.

"Why yes, I did, that is why I was meeting with these gentlemen here." Percy indicated the Wizengamot delegates. "Our meeting, however, has concluded. If there's nothing else gentlemen…."

"No, nothing else," said a rather cross looking wizard. He and his fellow Wizengamot members all stood, vanished their chairs, and made for the exit. They passed Harry, giving him no acknowledgement whatsoever, it was as though he was not even there.

When the door closed again, Harry trekked quickly to the Minister's desk, magicked a chair into existence, and sat down upon its crimson cushion.

"Let me jump straight to the point," said the Head Auror. "What the bloody hell do you expect to do now? The wizarding public will not accept silence on this matter, not from you, and especially not from me. I took your stance on this secret war because I had to. Now it seems it's about to fall apart, what are you going to do?"

Percy's forehead dropped into his palms which were held aloft by his elbows, pressed upon the dark, wood desk.

"You were right, Harry. You were right about everything. It was ridiculous to attempt to keep this war a secret. I did not want to incite panic… you know how people were last time. I did not want them to lose their sense of security."

"That was foolish," said Harry candidly. "I would never have gone along with it, had I not been forced. I've been on the receiving end of one of Voldemort's curses, I've fought him before. I had a…. I've had experience dealing with this situation."

"I'm aware, I was there when he died last time. Now, I'm calling a press conference tonight. I'm going to tell them everything, I cannot lie to the public, not after this."

"It's going to lose you your job," said Harry.

"It'll likely be the end of yours as well, I'm terribly sorry for all of this, Harry."

"It's too late now. I'll join you for the conference, I have to admit my part."

XxX

_**MINISTRY SCANDAL! MINSTER WEASELY AND HEAR AUROR POTTER EXPOSED IN MASSIVE LIE!**_

**HE HAS RETURNED!!!**

**by staff writer **

**Rita Skeeter**

_As it was requested, Minister Percy Weasley held a conference with the press to discuss Dolores Umbridge being found under the Imperius Curse, and her claimed sighting of You-Know-Who. Head Auror Harry Potter finally made an appearance for the press. We expected denial, what they gave us was something much more shocking. Minister Weasley was able to confirm that Umbridge's sighting of the Dark Lord was no delusion. Harry Potter told us that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is among us once more!_

_As Potter reported to us, he witnessed the Dark Lord's resurrection by Death Eaters Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback near Christmas of last year. He and the Minister have admitted that they hid this from the public eye and used the Auror Office exclusively to counter You-Know-Who's intentions. Potter claimed that he and Minister Weasley kept this out of the public eye for their own protection. Their reasoning was to solve the problem quietly without arousing public panic. _

_Obviously, this has not worked, considering that Dolores Umbridge was under the influence of the Imperius Curse. One can only wonder how many other high ranking Ministry Officials have been cursed by Death Eaters. The Minister encourages the public to exercise extreme caution. At this point, You-Know-Who has not attempted anything large scale, though there have been several murders linked to him which the Minister and Potter refused to comment on. A member of the Wizengamot, Alonzo Besierwan, commented on the killings. Besierwan said they were those of several Ministry Officials, the three unsolved cases from the last three months. _

_Harry Potter and Minister Weasely have promised the Wizarding World resolution to this matter, and, from this point forward, complete honesty so long as they keep their positions. The Wizengamot has called an emergency session on just that matter, excluding both Potter and Weasely from this matter. Meanwhile, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named intentions remain unclear. This reporter can only hope—_

But what Rita Skeeter hoped for, Harry did not care to know. He crumpled the paper and tossed it to the ground, later it would burn. The headmaster's tired eyes then flicked from Ron to Hermione who sat across the desk from him. Both looked as grim as he felt.

"I… never should have agreed. But we had to tell the public… things will only get worse, and if we were caught in the lie…. Things would have been worse. I'm going to lose my position as Head Auror." Harry remarked severely.

"Percy was absolutely out of line, mate," said Ron bitterly.

"You had no choice, Harry," offered Hermione.

"Thanks, but the problem is, I had a choice. I made the wrong one," Harry stated with finality. "This was idiotic, now we're at a total disadvantage against Voldemort."

"Harry…." Hermione trailed off.

"That's not all, either." Harry continued forlornly. "Percy sent me an owl, a few hours ago. The entire Wizengamot is in their 'emergency session' now. They're probably discussing whether or not to impeach him, and the least they'll do is fire me from my position as Head Auror. If I have any luck at all, I'll keep the position as Headmaster, but they would only do that to keep me quiet…. I don't know anymore."

"I'm sorry, mate," said Ron. "It's getting close to four, though, you know? The students will be arriving in a couple of hours.

"Yes, the students," Harry sighed. "Timing with these events never works out right, does it? We'd best prepare then. Off you go, thanks for talking to me."

"Any time, Harry," Hermione replied. "You're not alone in this."


	3. The Beginning of a New Regime

Chapter 3: The Beginning of a New Regime

_**Remember to pay attention. This chapter does hold key information. **_

_Chapter 3: The Beginning of a New Regime_

_Billowing smoke, green and putrid. A figure, tall and slender cloaked behind it, a laugh. A horrible, bitterly icy laugh. He spoke of death, _his_ death, and began to announce his name—_but was cut off by Albus' opening eyes every time, it never failed. His dreams had been haunted by the figure and the billowing smoke; it did not take much to formulate a guess as to who the cloaked one was. And who he was frightened Albus Severus Potter to the very core. It froze his insides like the previous winter's icy front of death. He could not shake it from his mind, it always invaded at inconsistent and inconvenient times when all Albus wanted was to disappear. Like now, as he boarded the Hogwarts Express and walked down the narrow hall to find a compartment.

Stares of fellow students lingered on him, poised, aimed, and ready to fire, like arrows. They bore through him even without being let fly. Albus averted his eyes to the floor, knowing well that James and Lily would be receiving similar treatment, and so would their mother, out on the platform still.

He caught broken sections of conversations, whispers, as he strode past student after student.

"… dad's a right nutter…."

"… mum says he's lying…."

"… should be expelled and his dad ought to be fired…."

Some of the things he heard, and the most polite.

After an eternity of treading a gauntlet, he found Rose and Hugo Weasely, as well as Philius Longbottom, known as Phil, in a compartment. He quickly slipped in, sat down and sighed in relief. For fourth years, none of them looked much older than the third years they once were. Each greeted him pleasantly, knowing the ridicule and distrust he faced.

"Good to see you mate," said Hugo. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to be on this bloody train. We had to be left with our Uncle George and—"

"Our cousin Roxanne is rather annoying," Rose cut in.

"Me mum went a bit loony when we went shopping in Diagon Alley. This was _before _the… erm… article. Today she barely let me come, had to cast a load of weird enchantments on me that I've never even heard of. Something about keeping nargles away, she says they are working with…."

"Well, I can tell you for a fact nargles do not exist," said Rose matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'm sick of all the stares," Albus interjected. The compartment went silent; the only sound invading was that of the wheels on the track. "What do you lot think?"

"My mum and dad believe your dad, Harry," said Phil immediately.

"There's no one that should _not _believe them," Rose cut in. "I mean, honestly, why would he throw away his career by coming out with that, and admitting what he admitted?"

"Right," Phil agreed. "And they both realized your dad had no other way of going about it, especially if the Minister ordered him. He mentioned that in the article. Skeeter had a whole other section criticizing him for doing that."

"I didn't read it all," Ablus admitted. "Can I tell you lot something?"

"Anything, Albus, of course," said Rose quickly and comfortingly.

"I'm afraid."

"I am too, Albus, everyone ought to be. I've heard stories about You-Know-Who." Hugo said.

"Honestly, Hugo," Rose snapped. "Will you just use his name for Merlin's sake? Mum and dad do."

"I know, just seems to…."

"Make him more real?" Albus finished.

"Right…." Hugo remained silent.

"I understand, Albus, you've good reason to be afraid," stated Rose consolingly.

"Voldemort tried to kill my dad loads of times last time, once when he was just a baby. I know he even tried to kill my mum once. Now… he's back."

Rose nodded and said: "I know this doesn't help, but people should be afraid, because he's even more dangerous."

"How do you reckon that?" Hugo inquired.

"Because the last time he returned, people were in denial, he had time. This time, it seems they will except the facts and attempt to stop him, he has to move quickly now, and from everything I've read about evil wizards like him, when they're forced to move, people die. I… I really hope… just be prepared for a lot of strange deaths in the paper. Last time… there were… I'm sorry, this is a horrible thing to be saying Albus. I really hope I haven't made you feel worse, I just think we ought to be prepared. Things will start to get worse."

XxX

The song of the sorting hat had changed, as it did every year. Lyrics and melody were different, but the message was still the same, with an extra piece of advice added to the mix of study hard, do not get in trouble, and respect your professors. The message was, stick together, and be careful. The sorting took place as it always did; Albus found his eyes wandering over the staff table, searching for empty seats. He found two, the astronomy professor Aurora Sinistra was gone, her chair seemed old and dusty.

McGonagall was also missing, but only because she now stood by the sorting hat, reading through an incredibly lengthy list of names. Many new first years were in attendance. After the tedious and somewhat boring process of sorting, Harry Potter arose and made his speech. The Headmaster gave his students the same message the sorting hat had, though his was packaged differently, more straightforward.

Neither his father's, nor the hat's words of advice and reassurance eased the burden on Albus' mind. He attempted to forget about it as a grand feast appeared before him.

As he dug his teeth into a particularly scrumptious chicken leg, Rose spoke.

"Where is Professor Sinistra? I do hope she is not ill, I rather enjoy astronomy… and arithmancy."

"Donnworry abou' 't." Hugo gulped, his mouth filled to a rather surprising capacity.

"Oh shut up," Rose snapped, cutting a piece of pork and eating it in a more civilized fashion.

Albus stared back at Sinistra's empty seat. He did not like unoccupied chairs.

XxX

Harry snagged the plum colored envelope from the brown barn owl upon his desk and resisted the urge to strangle the bird. The letter was from the Ministry, and they had the audacity to charge him a delivery fee. Harry deposited a knut into the small, enchanted burlap pouch upon the owl's leg and sent it off quickly, rather forcefully.

For a while the Headmaster simply stared at the envelope. It was not a howler, as he had fleetingly suspected at first glance. No, it was an official letter from the Ministry of Magic. He could see the contents in his mind's eye. A letter, addressed to him, a simple, indirect way of dethroning him as Head Auror. He knew it, he could sense it.

Harry sighed, drew his wand, and flicked it. The envelope dissipated into the air, and a paper, folded three times, unraveled before his eyes. It read, in a kind of magical, yet professional font:

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter_

_Head Master's Office, Hogwarts_

_From: Office of the Minister of Magic_

_Mr. Potter, the Ministry of Magic hereby states that you are being let go from your position as Head Auror. We apologize for the inconvenience of not speaking with you about this matter. However, the Wizengamot ruled yesterday that you and Minister Percy Weasely would be dethroned. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any questions, please refer them to the Senior Secretary of the Minister of Magic, Dolores J. Umbridge. _

_Very truly yours,_

_Dolores J. Umbridge_

_Also signed,_

_Alonzo B. Besierwan_

_New head of the Wizengamot_

Harry ripped the letter in two, and magicked fire to life, allowing it to engulf the white paper and the words of Dolores Umbridge. So, she had returned. She was free of St. Mungo's. A quick recovery indeed.

Harry's insides burned with anger. At least Percy was getting what he deserved as well.

XxX

Monday followed the first night at Hogwarts. Albus, Hugo, Rose, and Phil, all of Gyffindor House, followed the gathering masses of students down to the Great Hall for breakfast. There Professors McGonagall, Longbottom, Slughorn, and Sinistra (who appeared to be well and lively) handed out schedules, as all were heads of houses. Albus took his schedule from a rather irritable looking Professor McGonagall and read it along with Rose, Hugo, and Phil.

The three males groaned in detest when they spied a double period of Divination at the tops of their schedules, followed by a double period of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Rose smirked.

"You really ought to have taken Arithmancy," she said in a manner of light scolding. "You know as well as I do Professor Trelawney is a fraud. The only reason your dad even keeps her here, Albus, is because she'd have nowhere else to go, plus I got the impression that he wasn't rather fond of Divination anyway."

"He's not," Albus retorted quickly. "It's better than Arithmancy, though. I've heard your mum talk about it during the summer, can't understand a word she says."

"That's because you—" Rose stopped and waved a hand toward all three of them, Albus, Hugo, and Phil. "—and you, and you are all illiterate and don't read."

"Whatever," Hugo grunted, stuffing an entire pancake in his mouth. The bell rang a few minutes later, Rose headed off to Arithmancy wordlessly, leaving Albus, Hugo, and Phil to trudge off to Divination.

XxX

Harry watched the students file out of the Hall. Then glanced down at the front page of the _Daily Prophet _before him, he had made a commitment never to read it, but today he could not help himself. He'd seen most of the students staring at and muttering amongst themselves, occasionally looking in his direction, luckily neither Albus nor his group of friends had caught wind of it. Harry simply had to see what it said.

PERCY WEASLEY AND HARRY POTTER **FIRED**!

_By staff writer, Rita Skeeter_

_Head Auror Harry J. Potter and Minister Weasley have been fired._

Harry paused for a moment, noting how Rita Skeeter wrote his _full_ name, as if to brag, but wrote only 'Minister Weasley' for Percy…. He continued onward.

_As readers know, Weasley and Potter announced that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned in a press conference yesterday. They also informed the Wizarding World of their massive cover-up, to keep this information from the public. Hence, the Wizengamot, led by a new leader, Alonzo B. Besierwan, voted to impeach Weasley and eject Potter from the Ministry. He will, however, keep his job at Hogwarts because (quoted from Besierwan) "Mr. Potter's job at the school is largely better than his job as Head Auror". _

_Besierwan was elected Minister by an eighyt three percent favor of the Wizengamot. Auror Dean Thomas will be replacing Harry Potter. Thomas, ironically, was Potter's correspondent between Hogwarts and the Ministry. Today, the newly appointed Minister and Head Auror discussed how they intended to combat You-Know-Who's new…_

Harry tossed the paper downward. That article had not been particularly hesitant in throwing jabs, except for the subtle smack here and there. Harry shook his head and was suddenly aware of all the staff members staring at him.

"Harry…" Hagrid trailed off.

"Oh, never mind. What are you all still doing here anyway, you've got classes to teach. They nodded solemnly, muttered words of apology; Harry caught the eye of Professor Sinistra who bore a subtle look of disgust as she dropped the _Prophet _onto the table. Her silky, veil-like robes flowed behind her as she exited the Hall, the rest of the staff behind her. Harry stood up and began a long, bleak trek to his office.

_**Hehehe, a clue here, a bit of foreshadowing there. Anybody able to pick it out? You can tell me in your wonderful reviews, if you please. **_


	4. Fraud's Prediction

_Chapter 4: Fraud's Prediction_

Of every class, Divination was the worst. Albus, Hugo, and Phil, all attended that particular class together, which made it slightly bearable. It was not as though the subject itself was overly complicated like the kind of material Rose preferred. It would be factual to state, however, that Divination was difficult, so was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Albus still enjoyed it, at least as much as he could with someone like Draco Malfoy as their teacher. Divination was difficult because their professor was a complete, and utter failure, a fraud.

It was no secret to anyone that Professor Sybill Trelawney, the old hag of a woman residing in the northern tower, was not a teacher. Even the Headmaster knew it. So why was Trelawney allowed to _educate _the impressionable minds of young third years onward? The answer stemmed from a prophecy Ablus had little knowledge about, though he knew it involved the Dark Lord and his father, and it was supposedly completed long ago. Now, however, he was not sure, but that was beside the point.

The prophecy, anyway, was part of the reason Trelawney was allowed to _teach _students about the fine art of divination. The other part, Albus suspected, was because his father really didn't give a pixie's rear about the subject. Neither did Albus, of course, but he was almost positive he would not dread climbing the ladder to the classroom if he was faced with a competent professor on the other side of the trapdoor it led to. Best not to dwell on what could be.

Albus, Hugo, and Phil made a point to sit as far away from Trelawney as possible. Upon entering the classroom, and breathing in a lungful of the aroma of cooking sherry, they made there way to the very back of the class, to a round table holding a single crystal ball. They sat down upon the chairs lining it, and pulled out their books and supplies, then waited patiently, and contently for Professor (assuming that she could even be referred to as such) Trelawney to enter.

After a merciful two minute period of a Trelawney-less peace, the professor entered, renewing the scent of sherry. Albus watched her tread to the polar end of the class, opposite the entrance, and sit down in her large chair, next to the roaring fire. She was old, gray-haired, wore massively large glasses, and was wrapped in so many shawls that it was a real possibility she might die of heatstroke.

"Today," the elderly fraud squeaked in her usual mystical voice. "We shall discuss the theory of visions about the future."

The professor stood up slowly, glancing around, ensuring she had garnered the class's attention, despite the fact that it was a passively, bored alertness.

Satisfied, she continued.

"Many of such visions have I experienced. They come, usually, when I look upon the face of those they are about. Allow me to demonstrate!"

Toward a table of students, Trelawney glided smoothly, but with a slight flaw, like a well oiled cog that stuck for a fraction of a second, but continued onward as though nothing had happened. She stopped before Sibyl Patil, daughter of Padma Patil, named after Trelawney herself, as to why was anyone's guess.

"You," she spoke in a wavering, supernatural voice, pointing to Sibyl. "You have the gift of the seer! I see great prospect in your future."

Trelawney washed over to several other tables to predict several things about other randomly selected students. Most of her predictions consisted of the foresight she had of their imminent doom. Some were slightly more creative, such as when she predicted that a Slytherin would one day grow old and author a bestselling book in America, but be sued for copyright infringement of a television show called Xena: Warrior Princess. Some had the possibility of actually happening, like she predicted a fellow Gryffindor would fall when he attempted to sit down during lunch, and spill pumpkin juice all over himself.

After the professor's stint of "predictions", Trelawney stood before the class and finally got on to telling them what exactly they were going to do.

"I want you all to open your books to page forty-seven, and commence reading about the theory of prophetic visions," instructed the old woman in a voice that commanded nonchalantly, but kept up the façade of feigned mystical quality.

Albus, Hugo, and Phil did so unenthusiastically, and preceded to read a chapter which they could not even begin to comprehend, given that they had not been taught anything from which to build upon. Every now and then Albus' attention span would end, and he would glance up at Hugo who appeared to be staring blankly at page forty-seven. His attention would shift to Hugo, whose face was resting tiredly in his hand, to the rest of the class who looked as though they were about to die out of boredom (save for Patil), and then to Trelawney who sat upon her chair staring at him blankly.

Simply staring.

Twice Albus had to stare back at her, to ensure he could see her breathing. She looked pale, and dead.

He pressed onward in the chapter, trying to ignore Trelawney's eyes. They were cutting through his flesh, into his bones, his soul. Massive and relentless behind the colossal glasses, luminous in the firelight, they stared.

Once he reached the end of the chapter, it began to take its toll, and increase his discomfort exponentially with each ticking second that seemed to drag on for a lifetime and a day. Why was she staring at him?

Every so often he would glance at her, hoping her eyes would be averted. They weren't.

Upon her face was still that same, dead look. To contribute to his discomfort, the only one who seemed to notice that Trelawney appeared to be deceased was him. He desperately hoped someone would ask her what was wrong. No one did, and she continued to stare right upon until the bell mercifully rang.

Albus quickly gathered his materials and stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, barely noticeable, he glimpsed Trelawney shooting up from her chair at a speed faster than he ever would have thought possible. By the time his eyes met hers, she had a finger pointed at him, and was about to speak.

"Stop!" the fraud boomed. Everyone halted on their trek out and turned to look incredulously at Trelawney, who now looked as though she lost her sanity twenty years ago.

"You!" the old woman barked in a deep, less mystical tone, but one chilling. She indicated Albus. "It is you who knows. _Danger approaches in the dark night sky, emerald lights flashing. The black chest holds the vial key. It must be found before the traitor's final proclamation, or all shall be lost and die._"

There was not a sound in the room.

Everyone's eyes lingered upon Trelawney as she blinked twice, rubbed her eyes behind her ridiculously large spectacles, and yawned. Albus realized he was sweating; the hairs on the back of his neck stood, sharp like spears, goose bumps covered his skin like mountain ranges. Trelawney simply shrugged, as though shaking the weight of sleep from her shoulders.

"Read the next chapter tonight for homework, if you please," she announced holding her hand up in the air as if to draw attention. This was unnecessary, of course, as everyone was looking at her as though she was Voldemort himself.

Albus, Hugo, and Phil quickly made an exit. Neither spoke until they were halfway down the staircase leading away from the fraud's classroom.

"That was…" Albus trailed off. "Strange."

"It was probably a fluke, mate," said Hugo, though he did not seem to believe it anymore than Albus or Phil. "Don't worry about it."

"You're probably right," Albus agreed, still unbelieving.

None of it made sense, not one work. He could relate to nothing… except the danger approaching in the dark night sky. The figure in his dreams, clouded in black smoke, it took flight, sometimes, and emerald flashed through the air….

Potions class flew by quickly enough. A calmer step down from Divination where Albus, Hugo, and Phil could forget about the apparent episode suffered by Professor Trelawney, and move their mindset to a complex, tedious form of study. They had been assigned to draft up some sort of potion neither Albus, nor, it seemed, anyone in the class had ever heard of before. Slughorn merely told them to follow the directions and brew away!

Albus was the only successful one, earning him ten points for Gryffindor, and a slew of praise from the plump professor, prompting Albus to believe he was the best in the class. It was true. Last year he'd even won that bottle of Felix Felicis which he was still saving.

After potions ended, schedules took Phil and Hugo elsewhere. Only Albus trudged up to the third floor to face Defense Against the Dark Arts where he met Rose again. It was not as though DADA was a horrible subject like Divination, nor that it had an unbearable professor like Trelawney, or an annoyingly praising one like Slughorn. No, the entity which ruled the class was entirely different. Professor Draco Malfoy.

Perhaps the former collaborator of Lord Voldemort was downright nastily dictating. It was as though the class was a monarchy, he was the emperor and they were not but peasants. Surprisingly, though, for all his strictness, he was a good, fair teacher. Though, last year, Albus really had not been able to figure him out. Did he have prejudices against muggleborns? Did he favor Slytherins over everyone else? Did he needlessly subtract points from Gryffindor's count?

Any doubt Harry's son had had was gone now.

All evidence pointed to fair play. Considering, throughout he whole lesson, which was mostly a lecture and discussion on theory, Rose and Albus answered many difficult questions the professor tossed out, and were, in turn, awarded by generous amounts of points. The same treatment was received by any Slytherin (many of whom made up the other half of the class). Though, the house of the serpent answered much less often, and looked thoroughly depressed they would not be getting favorable treatment from a former Death Eater.

The rest of the day flew by quickly after a surprisingly painless Defense class, and a long, drawn out, lecturing, extremely complex Transfiguration session. McGonagall had spoken in terms that Albus had never heard before, but insisted it was all review of last year. After dinner where many students seemed sullen and exhausted for one reason or another, where the professors all appeared grim, Albus, Hugo, Phil, and Rose headed up to the Gryffindor common room to complete their lengthy essay for Transfiguration, and perhaps, in Albus, Hugo, and Phil's case, weasel their was through reading the next chapter for Divination, and answering some questions afterward.

Albus, however, did not want to think about Trelawney, her class, or her chilling prediction. He threw himself wholeheartedly into the work he did not understand. It took until midnight before her finally gave up. By that time, Rose was done with her Transfiguration essay, and nearly finished with her homework from Arithmancy. Phil had succeeded in finishing his Divination, like Hugo, and Albus, but neither of them had written more than a sentence for their essays. Albus even read the chapter in which the information was supposed to be contained seven times, but still did not understand it.

Rose assured them she would be of assistance later; however, the night was spent, each of them packed up, bid one another goodnight, and were about to head up to their respective common rooms when an owl smashed its face into a window nearby. Albus exchanged glances with his comrades who looked equally as puzzled, then jogged to the window, opened it, and allowed the now semi-conscious bird to fly in.

It dropped a paper at feet, stained the carpet, and took off out the window. Hugo shut it as Rose retrieved the delivered paper. It was copy of the _Midnight Prophet_ (how many did they have, anyway?).

As she unrolled it from its tightly wrapped, and bound position, a black and white, moving bust-like picture of Harry Potter smiled tiredly at Albus. What _now_?

Rose huffed in indignation, and flipped the _Prophet _over to scan the front page and the lengthy article surrounding Harry's picture. As Rose scanned the text, Albus, Hugo, and Phil waited tiredly, all three of them yawning. Potter's son could not place why, he wasn't even interested in what the article had to say. It was merely another flame, drafted up the horrible Rita Skeeter or one of her fellow Potter-opposing cronies. Likely, it had little or no merit, the latter far more probable. It was also highly doubtful that the thing was more than five percent factual, ninety-five percent hot air. However, the look on Rose's face peaked Albus' curiosity and forced him to reconsider his preconceived notions.

"Oh, dear," the girl mumbled.

"What?" Hugo demanded irritably.

"Albus, your dad has been fired as Head Auror."

"What?" asked the former Head Auror's son, his tiredness fading.

"Yes, it says it right here, he's being replaced, but apparently he's keeping his job here."

"How nice of them, slimy gits," Phil remarked.

"That's not all," Rose continued.

"How can their possibly be more?" Hugo asked carpingly.

"Uncle Percy has been impeached as Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot," stated Rose. "He's being replaced by Alonzo Besierwan, former member…. It's because of them keeping Voldemort's return secret, like we all had too…. Horrible, it was a bad idea anyway, but, really, they were just trying to keep the public from panicking."

"Well, they're bloody well panicking now," Hugo retorted.

"Oh, do shut up," snapped his sister.

"It doesn't matter," Albus interjected. All eyes fell on him. "What's done is done, I guess. Honestly, I don't want to think about it right now. I want to go to bed."

And so they did.

Far past midnight, Harry Potter sat in the Headmaster's office, his office, forehead cupped in his hands, the only light cast by a flickering torch. All day, he'd wanted to speak with Dumbledore's portrait, strange as it seemed. He'd barely talked to the deceased man's essence since last year, the former Headmaster seemed to be busy on other errands more important than being available to calm the currant Headmaster's racing mind.

Harry sighed and looked down at his desk, upon which, lay a paper etched in his own scribbling. Originally, it had been a letter, to whom, he did not quite know, perhaps the new minster, perhaps the old, or perhaps to his successor. He'd simply given up, however, half way through it. Really, in retrospect, looking back on it now (though it had only occurred an hour ago) it was probably just to vent anger, and anger it had vented. No longer was he angry. Rage had sifted through the pores on his skin, and evaporated into the air, leaving behind an exhaustion that clung to his muscles.

There was not point in late-night musings such as this anymore. It was late, he must go to bed.

Harry stood, and was about one foot into his trek toward a bed when a cold, smooth, deep, and slightly disturbing voice stopped him dead on his path.

"Secret war," sneered the voice. "A foolish idea."

Harry's eyes averted to lock onto a figure behind him, encased in a portrait. It was that of a man, with long, black, greasy hair, curtained over his rather angry looking face.

"Thanks for the tip," Harry retorted to his former potions professor and enemy. "I won't be waging anymore secret wars in the future."

"A fine start, to be sure," said Severus Snape's portrait. "However, now, I must know your plan of action."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Listen to yourself, Potter! What could I possibly mean?"

"I don't know, it's about one o'clock in the morning, I'm rather tired, you see."

"Yes, I am aware. However, there are potions for that, surely you remember."

"Vividly."

"Touching to hear," scoffed Snape. Harry was not quite sure why the portrait insisted on picking on him, he didn't care much. Old habits died hard, he supposed. "Now, you must know the Dark Lord will be moving. I believe it would be wise if you were to do what you could, when you could, to stop what you could, but secretly, of course. Otherwise you risk butting heads with the Ministry, and you've been fired. I wondered when this day would come."

"Can we stop with the subtle insults? You're dead now."

"Correct, Potter, and I'm trying to give you a word of advice, as a former double agent in the Dark Lord's ranks."

"Advice I really didn't need," Harry replied.

"I had to make sure. You'd be an idiot not to take matters into your own hands, as you always do. You never much cared for rules."

"I never did, never will. Thanks for the advice, I'm going to bed now."

"Very well. Beware of the Dark Lord, Potter. His power is great, and his followers are many. Last time, he exploited the Ministry through its rotten core. This time, only the bloody _Prophet _is rotten. You must expect his agents are everywhere."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Do that, it might save your life, and be the key to his defeat."

Snape disappeared then, to the right, leaving behind a black, inky canvas.

_Inky blackness. Danger approaching, flying figure in a dark night sky. Claps of thunder, emerald lightning. Impossible to make anything out. Nothing tangible except the crushing pressure of impending doom. A voice rang out, syllables of every word emphasized like the hiss of a serpent._

"_Danger approaches in the dark night sky, thunder claps and emerald flashes. A black figure makes his way to an unprotected, but guarded throne. The black chest holds the vial key. It must be found before the traitor's final proclamation, or all shall be lost and you will die."_

Harry sprang up and ran a hand through his sweat drenched hair. Just a dream…. Just a dream.

**_A/N: Sorry for the lack of posting. Other things to do and stuff, reviews would be nice, and truthfully, probably make posting come faster. I'm sure you enjoyed the ridiculous amount of foreshadowing. Might as well have given the entire thing away._**


	5. The Dark Mark

Right, so, here we go

_**Right, so, here we go. Now things shall take a wonderful turn, and, guess what? We get to see some Bellatrix in action!**_

_Chapter 5: The Dark Mark_

A week had passed since the beginning of term now, and most students had settled in to their daily routines and class schedules. As was custom, the first years were still quite unsuited with their environment. Albus was in with the flow of Hogwarts again, and already knew his schedule. The only class he had not attended yet was Astronomy, but that would soon change. Albus, Hugo, Rose, and Phil all would attend the class Friday at midnight. Professor Aurora Sinistra who'd been missing (apparently ill) for the first few days of term was now well. She sat quietly at the staff table every mealtime now, her usual self. Albus had never really known her before, he could only hope that she was not as strict as McGonagall, or as irritating as Slughorn.

As if the news of a Professor's returned state of wellness was not nice enough, the _Daily Prophet _had hardly mentioned Harry Potter's name for the last few weeks. A welcome relief for the headmaster who was currently trying to sort out his thoughts and figure out some way he could contribute heavily to the effort against Voldemort.

The advice of Snape's portrait was constantly in the back of his mind. Not that he had not already come to the conclusion himself, but somehow his former potion's master had solidified his resolve. He would help combat the Dark Lord, and he would do so in secret, just like his school days.

Though, no one had any leads on Voldemort. No one ever did, not last time, and _certainly _not this time. The third time around, things were so much more difficult, as well they should be, for both sides had grown wiser, hopefully. Once more, Harry could only hope this was true, and that the Ministry would be an aid to him (despite the fact he would not work directly with them) not an obstacle.

Friday night came quickly, the days leading up to it had been particularly exhausting. McGonagall had all but overloaded them with homework, and Slughorn had strongly advised them to study for an upcoming test on poisons. What the bloody hell was with so many tests anyway?! It was not as thought the Ministry was monitoring academic achievement. They were too busy chasing trails that lead to dead ends, Albus thought bitterly as he made his way up to the tallest tower in the school.

Astronomy was tonight, and he was not nearly as enthusiastic about it as the rather annoying Gryffindor girl behind him, Hugo, Phil, and Rose who was eagerly ranting on about some constellation or another. Albus had been up all night last night finishing an essay for Malfoy which he fully expected to receive, at the very most, a D for dreadful, if not a T.

Mercifully, tomorrow was Saturday where he could sleep in and concentrate on the copious amounts of work he still had left later. His legs were slightly heavy as the end of the ascension to the Astronomy Tower. He pulled back the door to the classroom and allowed Hugo, Rose, and Phil to enter before himself. The enthusiastic Gryffindor girl slipped in as well, and kindly thanked him before continuing on with her ranting and raving.

Albus let the heavy wooden barrier slam shut behind him, and made his way to one the four-chair, circular table that his friends now occupied. Upon it sat a model of the solar system. The rest of the classroom was laid out much the same way, mystical, and full of starry tapestry. It was a round room, the center of which was bare, and the perimeter was lined with exits onto a balcony which wrapped around the entire tower. At regular intervals there stood telescopes.

The students began to unpack their supplies as they awaited Professor Sinistra's arrival. She entered from her office, shutting the door hastily behind her, and made her way to the northernmost part of the classroom, next to a green chalkboard. She wore dark robes, and a scarf in her hair. The air about her was different, almost reminiscent of Trelawney, but not quiet as crazy.

"Students," she spoke clearly, with no deep, mysterious tones lacing her speech like the Divination Professor. "Tonight, we shall begin our class with the reading of Chapter 1 in your text books, afterwards, if we have time, we shall gaze into the heavens and complete a hands-on demonstration of what we will learn tonight."

"What the bloody hell is she going on about?" Rose whispered into Albus' ear. Indeed, Sinistra was ranting on, and speaking down to them more than usual, she seemed slightly drunken. It must have been bad, whatever it was, because it had caused Rose to comment, to whisper in class. Rose _never _did such things, always her attention was glued to the professor as though she were a fly, and the educator was honey-battered bread.

"No idea," Albus quietly answered.

"Now, begin," Sinistra commanded, and then skulked off into the darkest corner of the room where she sat upon a chair and began to flip through a crimson book.

"Alright…" Hugo trailed off. He opened his book and commenced reading, as did everyone else.

Five pages into the introduction to ridiculously complex theories about the cosmos, Albus' felt his eyelids growing heavy. Lack of sleep was no friend to him in this environment. He saw the words upon the page, they entered his conscious through his eyes and left nothing of value when they faded away. As far as Albus could tell, Rose was intently studying the material, Phil was glancing over it, bored, and Hugo was in the same frame of mind Albus was in. Namely, no frame of mind, nothing but dreary emptiness.

Finally, it overwhelmed him, and his head fell upon the book placed upon his table before he could stop himself. A ringing smack echoed through the class as his the textbook hit the ground, and Albus immediately sat up straight as his face made contact with the table.

The room rang with laughter.

Albus groaned in embarrassment, retrieved his book, and, no more than a second after he had set it back on the table, Sinistra spoke.

"Silence!" she commanded rather sternly, bordering on harshness. "Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?"

"I'm… tired, Professor," Albus replied feebly.

"Ah, well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Hmm… how can that possibly be done, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't know, Professor."

"_Excuse _me, I will not tolerate such a tone from my students! Insolence! Insolence!" Sinistra cried. Apparently Albus had overstepped some sort of boundary, whatever he had said, it must not have sounded the way he'd intended. "Very well, Mr. Potter! Detention, next Friday night with me, here, after class. We must get you accustomed to late nights here, this way, you won't be so tired next time. Continue with your reading, and start from the beginning."

Albus complied wordlessly, and for the rest of the class Sinistra stared at him. By the time it was nearly over, everyone had finished, and merely sat there, for the Professor gave no instruction. She merely observed as Ablus continued in his futile attempts to comprehend what he was reading.

Finally, class ended, and everyone cleared out immediately. Albus was last, and before leaving, Sinistra spoke again.

"Remember, Mr. Potter, next week Friday, after class, detention."

It was late, and the Three Broomsticks must close soon. But business was, indeed, as muggles liked to put it, 'booming'. Madam Rosmerta could not decide whether or not she liked the prospect of earning more galleons better than that of going to bed. Then again, going to bed might be a mistake. Somebody in the corner had been sitting in their place all night, and had not ordered even one drink. The barmaid did not know who it was, but she had a horrible idea, and kept her wand where it could easily be reached.

Something was off about the cloaked figure. She could not tell if it was either man or woman, regardless… it worried her. Maybe it was nothing, after all, _they _could not read her mind from wherever they were. No, no, and she would tell the headmaster tomorrow, how could they know that? They couldn't. Of course, she was paranoid. It was not likely their asset secretly employed legilimency upon her.

Even so…. Perhaps… perhaps she must go tell the headmaster now, before all was lost. But all would not be lost! This was simple paranoia. Or… was it? _They _knew, they knew that _she _knew! Did they? Then she must tell someone, her only way out if the cloaked figure was one of them.

Rosmerta turned to the barman next to her who was busily cleaning mugs.

"Take over for me, do you mind? I really must go and visit the headmaster, you understand."

"Is it about that woman in the corner?" the barman asked.

So it was a woman…. Could it be _her_?

"Might be, I'm not sure yet. Listen, if I'm not back in an hour, summon the Aurors. Tell them that I know of a—"

The figure in the corner stood up, and began her to make her way past drunken wizards slowly to the bar. Head down, hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, black hair, dark as coal hung out like tendrils of seaweed. Rosmerta saw it, a pale hand reach for a wand beneath the cloak….

"Summon the Aurors," Rosmerta commanded, and then made her way out of the Three Broomsticks with all haste, into the streets of Hogsmeade, the woman on her tail. She must apparate, she must do it now!

She heard it, then, shoe against gravel. Rosmerta spun to see the woman exiting the tavern she'd left behind. Both paused for a split second… and then the assailant flew at her. The barmaid spun on the spot, concentrated on her destination, and a strangling blackness took her as the cloaked figure grabbed hold of her ankle!

The barmaid tried in vain to shake her off, but the grip on her ankle was like a vice. She'd reach her destination soon, and she'd be killed. Murdered. She must escape, even if she would die, she must tell Harry!

The chilly night air filled her lungs, and she found herself running instantly, through dew-stained grass, toward the Shrieking Shack. The assailant was on her heels, she could hear the woman's ragged breathing, and then—

"_Impendimenta!" _

Rosmerta was flying through the night, she crashed through the meager fence surrounding the shack, and rolled hard upon the ground before stopping on her back. She was facing the cloaked woman, who's hood was off. Before she could even retrieve her wand, the Death Eater was standing above her, wand aimed at her face.

"Don't move," said the assailant. She had a chiseled face, heavily-lidded eyebrows, and coal-black hair with a gray streak. Her face was once beautiful, but that beauty had been robbed from time, and from Azkaban.

"Harry Potter doesn't need me to warn him! He'll find out himself, he'll discover it, your master's plan wont work!"

"We should have killed you years ago, woman," Bellatrix hissed. "My Lord shall bestow his sincerest gratitude upon me when I am done! Except, I have to know, how did you find out?"

"She had a stain on her robes! I saw it, I reckon she keeps it locked up, doesn't she, in that black chest she carries? That's why she came down to Hogsmeade… and she stopped to buy a drink."

"Interesting, I didn't actually know that. Rest assured, she'll be warned to be more cautious. Now, barmaid, you die, and I get my reward. Oh, praise me my lord! Praise me! I crave to hear your voice!"

"You're insane!"

"No!" the Death Eater shrieked. "You're insane, you didn't even bother to tell itty, bitty Potter when you found out. Now, you both get to pay for your mistake, and my lord shall love me for saving his plan."

"Then kill me! Kill me and go make love to him, you sick bitch!"

"YOU DARE! YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD BAR WOMAN! I'LL SHOW YOU! HIS MARK SHALL BE LEFT HERE! THE LAST THING YOU WILL SEE BEFORE YOU DIE IS HIS BEAUTY, ENCASED IN THE MARK! _Morsmordre!_"

From the Bellatrix's wand flew a jet of emerald, if soared into the sky, and spread, forming the outline of a colossal skull, a serpent slithering from his mouth.

"You are insane!" Rosmerta roared. Someone, please, someone hear her, someone must hear her! The Dark Mark, someone must see it!

"You're dead! _Avada Kedavra!_"

She didn't know if it was the green of the curse, or the green of the skull that she saw before darkness took her.

Acutely, she was aware of a scuffling, then silence.

So was Bellatrix. She spun toward the woods, aimed her weapon and shouted,

"_Incendio!" _

The wood erupted in a flurry of blue flame, but the entity had disappeared, Bellatrix screeched in rage, and vanished into the night.

For breakfast the next morning both Albus and Harry helped themselves only to toast, each felt an odd effect of the previous night's stresses in their stomach, and really didn't want to each much. However, both father and son were stressed for very different reasons, Albus' being the usual annoyance with detention next Friday. Harry, however, had been informed of homicide, and so too, would the student body.

After taking a bite of toast, Albus' attention was drawn to Professor McGonagall who was rapidly tapping on her goblet with a fork.

She cleared her throat and said, "Attention please. All students are to be informed immediately that trips to Hogsmeade this year are cancelled by decree of this staff. For reasons why… please see the front page of the _Daily Prophet_."

The murmuring of students grew into a dull roar of chatter, Hugo and Albus exchanged confused looks as McGonagall resumed eating solemnly, and then, as if on cue, the morning edition of the _Prophet _was delivered to those who ordered it. Thus, a rather husky brown owl dropped a copy on Rose's lap, she dropped a knut into a pouch around the bird's leg (which was apparently not enough for the greedy thing as it stole an entire muffin before flying off), and then proceeded to open the paper.

She inhaled sharply at the sight of the front page.

"What?" Hugo inquired, mouth half full of food.

"Madam Rosmerta has been murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. Apparently she left a witness and burned down a good amount of trees trying to kill him… oh dear…."

From further away, Harry caught a glimpse of the look on Rose's face. Indeed… the murders had begun again, it was all happening once more! Something had to be done.

_**Reviews are nice….**_


	6. The Witness and the Spy

Chapter 6: The Witness and the Spy

_**It appears my page breaks on previous chapters AREN'T WORKING! This is greatly ticking me off, but I don't have the patience to edit them right now, thus, I'm going back to my old page breaks, despite the fact FFN had something telling us to insert lines as breaks.**_

_Chapter 6: The Witness and the Spy_

Sometime after breakfast, not quite lunch, but somewhere in between, Harry did not know when, the headmaster called his most loyal staff to his office. As if they'd been summoned for some great award, Ron and Hermione arrived immediately, Harry offered them seats, which they took, and a bottle of firewhisky. Both declined, so the headmaster simply poured himself a generous helping and drunk a bit before beginning with the business at hand.

"There's been a murder," said Harry.

"That much is obvious," Ron replied.

The headmaster nodded.

"Well, the Ministry is obviously going to interfere," Harry added.

"They always do," interjected Hermione.

"Yes, and, frankly, I don't trust them. I've been thinking about it for a long time, now. Snape spoke to me…."

"What do you mean 'Snape spoke with you'?" Hermione inquired in slight confusion.

"Portrait," Harry answered, gesturing at the empty canvas that usually housed the former potions master. The headmaster took another swig of firewhisky. "Anyway, the Ministry is far too influenced by public opinion, and people like Rita Skeeter, she might as well be the bloody head of the Wizengamot and the Minister! So, we're not going to sit idly by while they try to find Voldemort."

At mention of the Dark Lord's name, Ron winced slightly, Hermione slugged him hard in the arm before speaking. "When—honestly Ronald, get _over _it, you're worse than we were as teenagers—anyway, Harry, when have we ever sat idly by while Voldemort—RONALD WEASLEY! Dear Merlin, you've seen the man before, get over the bloody name!"

"Sorry," Ron mumbled. "Force of habit."

"From a former _Auror_!" Hermione huffed.

Harry took another swig of his firewhisky. "Well, now that that's done with, let's get on to what I needed to say to you, shall we? First of all, the _Prophet _reported there was a witness to the crime."

"Who wrote the article?" Ron asked, half serious, half joking.

"Ginny," said Hermione.

"I thought she was only a supervising editor, not a journalist." Harry put in.

"Apparently not, anyway, Rita Skeeter was busy slamming the Wizengamot on some policy they made. So, hopefully, we can assume that what Ginny wrote is mostly true, rather than mostly rubbish."

"Assuming that it is, then," Harry continued, "we need to find this witness."

"The _Prophet _didn't report a name, and the murder was in Hogsmeade, so the—"

But Hermione was cut off by a loud series of bangs in quick succession. Knocking on the door. Harry took yet another swig of firewhisky, which, by this time, was almost gone. He ought not to pour himself anymore.

"Enter," said the headmaster. The door immediately flew open and Neville Longbottom rushed it, slamming it behind him, he appeared flustered, and slightly harassed. Neither Harry nor his companions attempted to hide their surprise; Ron simply conjured up a chair for Neville to sit on. The Herbology professor took it graciously, and Harry spoke first.

"What's the matter, Neville?"

"Harry, I'm sorry, I should have come to you sooner but… I, I didn't know what to do, the people, the—well, they weren't going to use my name, so I didn't know if—"

"Neville," Harry snapped a bit more rudely than he'd intended, but not unkindly. "What's wrong?"

"I saw the murder, Harry. I'm the witness Bellatrix Lestrange left behind."

"Oh, dear, Neville," squeaked Hermione. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry I didn't come to your first, Harry, I didn't know what to do, the Aurors or you… but the Aurors were—"

"Neville, it doesn't matter," said the headmaster, cutting the Herbology professor off again. "Just tell us what happened."

"Alright. I was in the Three Broomsticks, near Rosmerta, I followed her and that cloaked woman out because Rosmerta looked scared and I… wanted to help, you know, see—"

"Neville," Harry stopped him again. "Why the bloody hell were you even in Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, I just needed some things for Herbology, I stopped for a drink and lost track of time. Um… so, when I followed them, Rosmerta apparated and the woman grabbed on to her ankle. I sort of stood there for a minute, I didn't know what to do, but, then, the Dark Mark appeared right above the Shrieking Shack, so I apparated in the woods next to it. Then… I saw _her_. Bellatrix. Harry, I was so angry, so angry with her for what she did to my parents… seeing her again…. I _wanted _to hurt her, so I tried casting a curse… a very nasty curse… but it didn't work, and Bellatrix killed Rosmerta before I could do anything. I was crouching, and I kind of lost my balance a little and broke a twig, I guess. _She _cast Incendio at the woods, and I had to apparate or else I would die. I came back to find her after that, but she was gone."

"We ought to go to the spot Rosmerta died immediately. Neville, did you hear Bellatrix say anything to her, at all?"

"No, nothing useful, but I was close to the bar. I heard Rosmerta tell the man next to her something, summon the Aurors if she was not back, because she had to tell _you _something important."

What could Rosmerta possibly have had to tell Harry? What in the world….

"We need to go to Hogsmeade, now," the headmaster stated. "I'll tell Minerva we'll be back in a while."

They all nodded and stood, Hermione gasped, then. Harry, Ron, and Neville instinctively drew their wands.

"It's nothing!" Hermione shouted immediately. "It was a huge rat, gone now, startled me is all. Harry, you really must take care of your pest problem."

XxX

It was a gray afternoon. Clouds covered the sky, and all light was pale and dim. It was Saturday, most of the students were about the lake if they were outside, and none were really upon the front grounds of the school. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville's paths were unobstructed by any students, and they were all the happier to avoid any questions thrown at them. Their trek ended at the closed gate, Harry waved his wand several times, muttering incantations to release the wards protecting the school. Once finished, the headmaster threw open the gate and allowed his companions to walk through before closing it, and recasting the wards upon it once more.

As he conjured the last, the sound of a snapping branch forced him to spin and aim his wand at the figure, that of a man, approaching him and his comrades from behind a great tree. Ron, Hermione, and Neville had their wands drawn as well. The man took two steps forward, before falling. The group of Hogwarts staff immediately started toward him, wands at the ready, wary of an attack.

Harry kneeled at the man's side and saw he was covered in bleeding abrasions. They were clean, and thin, the product of magic, wounds consistent with the Sectumsempra curse, or any other manner of darker curses. It was, really, impossible to deduce which, but it didn't matter at the moment.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Neville whispered. "That's the barman Rosmerta was talking to before she left."

"Yes, I am…" the man trailed off weakly, his breathing was heavy, and his eyes were alight with something akin to fear. "The… Death Eater… she attacked me when I… apparated near here…. I was coming to speak with you… I must… tell…."

"Ron, Hermione," Harry snapped. "Fetch Madam Pomfrey, this man needs attention."

"Right, Harry," said Hermione. She and Ron immediately ran back for the castle, removed the wards on the gate, entered, closed it, and casted them anew which took much less time with two people.

"Don't strain yourself," the headmaster told the barman. "You're loosing blood…. Neville?"

"Um…" Neville fiddled with the contents of the pockets of his robes, and pulled out a handful of green leaves. "This should stop some bleeding…."

The Herbologist carefully covering as many of the bleeding abrasions as he could with the leaves. Indeed, the blood flow slowed to a trickle. Harry attempted to stop the rest with all manner of healing spells he knew, but none worked, this was, indeed, very dark magic.

"I… must tell…."

"What? What must you tell me? What did Rosmerta say; did you see the Death Eater who did this to you?"

"No… but it was a woman…. The one that… killed Rosmerta… and the one… what attacked me."

"Where is the one that attacked—"

"Harry!" Neville cried.

The headmaster stood immediately as a screeching, feminine voice rang through the air.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Neville's wand flew several feet behind him, and the Herbology professor fell to the ground. By now, Harry had the robed figure in his sights, he muttered off a jinx of his own creation, and a jet of crimson fire flew at the assailant. The Death Eater ducked, and launched off a curse which Harry attempted to parry, but could not achieve the proper angle. The jet of purple contacted with his hand, literally freezing it, causing him to drop his wand. Then, his entire arm began to numb with the affect of the curse, it froze, immobile, them burned as if roaring fire had been lit under it. The headmaster screamed in pain, and was aware that he was on the ground, his wand almost in reach. He must—

"Don't move, Potty!" snarled the Death Eater. Harry looked to her, to see it was Alecto Carrow.

"Hello, Alecto, I remember you, a former Muggle Studies _professor _here, weren't you?" Harry snapped sarcastically.

Alecto giggled insanely. "Yes, professor, I love being a professor, such bratty kids, so many detentions! And the sounds of their screams, music to my ears! Oh, I ought to kill you three, I ought to! But my Lord would not be very nice about it… not at all… ah, Harry! Such a familiar situation, only, I had Dumby at my mercy in the Astronomy Tower!"

"_You_?! It was Snape, or have you forgotten? And Dumbledore only died because he ordered Snape to kill him."

"What madness is this?! Shut up, Potty, shut up! Let me deal with what I came to deal with, the other witness!"

Alecto looked down at the bleeding man and licked her lips like a predator, about to sink its teeth into the juicy meat of its disabled prey. She angled her wand at the man's face.

"Nighty, night!"

A jet of green flew from the tip, and hit the barman square in the face, he gasped, took one last breath, and was silent. Harry reached madly for his wand.

"No, Potter!" Alecto hissed, another blast of green light flew toward him, hitting the ground near his wand and sending chunks of dirt flying. The grass around the impact point immediately drooped and died.

"Now, Longbottom, isn't it?!" Carrow asked, giggling madly as she turned he wand toward Neville. "This ain't the first time we've found ourselves in this delectable little situation, is it, Neville? I must kill you too, but first…. _Crucio!_"

"_Reducto!" _

Alecto flew back, not knowing what hit her as Harry stood up, wand in his left had as his right still burned. Neville was released immediately from the affects of the torture curse, and both wizards stood, aiming their weapons at the Death Eater. Alecto arose, shaking the dirt from her graying hair.

"Aww, Potty cares! But Potty must know that my lord doesn't like witnesses! Bella was punished, I will not be! _Avada Kedavra!_"

Neville ducked and rolled, the curse flew past him, hitting the gate of Hogwarts. Upon impact, a massive explosion of sprang into existence, forcing Harry to hop back. Alecto Carrow cackled madly.

"C'mon, Potty, come on! I expected more than this! But first, I really must take care of the witness."

Alecto opened her mouth and muttered the word _Avada _just as Harry began to the incantation for a curse to stop her, however, she halted, turned, and vanished. Harry spun to see Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Slughorn running toward the gate. Harry pocketed his wand, and ran to Neville's side, ignoring the searing pain in his right arm.

XxX

His arm felt normal now. Harry had deduced what exactly the curse was Alecto had used upon him, and Slughorn had mixed up a potion for it. Now, Harry paced is his office as the prefects ensured his students returned to their common rooms immediately. The Aurors were already questioning Neville in the Hospital Wing where the body had been taken. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had immediately rushed to his office for whatever reason, now, only Harry remained. Ron and Hermione had gone to greet the Aurors and, apparently, the new Minster himself who was insisting on meeting Harry.

What the headmaster was doing now was waiting, and trying to ignore the burning tingling in his arm, still resonating from the curse. He paced up and down his office, ignoring the irritating queries of the portraits. He was only interested in Dumbledore's advice, anyway, and Dumbledore wasn't in his portrait, he never was!

Harry sat down upon his great chair just as a knock sounded, before he even called for the guest to enter, Hermione sprang in and ran up to his desk.

"Harry, Ron is leading the Minister as well as Dean Thomas here, right now."

Wordlessly, Harry conjured up four chairs; Hermione took one as Harry contemplated the meaning on the Minister's visit. And surely this was not a job for the Head Auror, Dean Thomas. Harry bitterly sighed as he recalled his job being terminated. He didn't dislike Dean, though. Hermione did not speak to him, she seemed to be aware of what he was thinking, and her mind, too, was racing with thoughts similar.

After a few minutes of silence, and contemplation, a knock sounded again. This time, Harry spoke for them to enter.

Enter they did, Ron, Dean, and the Minister, Alonzo Besierwan. They sat down. The headmaster and Minister examined one another for a moment.

Alonzo Besierwan was a tall, older man. Probably, though he did not want to think about any Death Eaters, around the age of Bellatrix Lestrange. His face had sharply cut features, it was stern looking. Besierwan was completely bald, but a gray and black beard surrounded his mouth, his nose was sharp, as were his eyes, he rather resembled an elderly vulture.

"Mr. Potter," the minster acknowledged. His voice was guttural, and had a heavy English accent mixed with that of an Australian. Perhaps this man was a traveler.

"Minister," said Harry. "Would you care for some firewhisky?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary. We both know why I am here. I believe Mr. Thomas would like to begin."

Harry nodded, noticing how coldly Alonzo Besierwan was speaking to him, and how his eyes seemed slightly narrowed, as though he was scrutinizing every bit of Harry's being.

"Harry," said Dean, neglecting to observe the façade of formality that the Minister had constructed upon his entrance. "Can you give us a positive identification of the Death Eater?"

"Haven't you spoken to Neville?"

"No, I've got my men on it."

_You've got _my _men on it_, Harry thought bitterly, but said aloud, "Alecto Carrow."

"Right, these murders are probably related, then," said Dean.

"I would have to agree," Besierwan interjected. "And you, Mr. Potter?"

There was an air about the Minister… a slight change in his voice as he spoke the name Potter. Harry got the impression that Alonzo Besierwan did not like him in the least. Harry reciprocated these feelings.

"I agree, wouldn't it be more productive, though, if you asked me for my story?"

The Minister's eyes narrowed more. "Yes, it probably would. Off you go."

"Well, I had decided to go to the scene of Rosmerta's murder. I wanted to search for any clues that might be there. I met the man that died down there, at the gate, he was bleeding, these two Professors were with me," Harry gestured to Ron and Hermione, "as well as Professor Longbottom. I sent Professor Weasley and his wife here to fetch Madam Pomfrey. Once they were inside the castle, Alecto Carrow apparated before us, disarmed me, and Longbottom, and killed the barman. She attempted to kill Longbottom because she knew he was the witness somehow, but I got my wand and stopped her. She apparated when she saw everyone coming from the castle."

"I see," said Besierwan. "Why, then, may I ask, was Professor Longbottom with you, as well as the two Professor Weasleys?"

"Because I trust them," said Harry simply. "They were coming with me to investigate the scene of Rosmerta's death."

"Mr. Potter," said Besierwan curtly. "You must know that Neville Longbottom was the _Prophet_'s witness to the murder of Rosmerta. Longbottom must have told you about the barman as he told the Aurors."

Harry nodded and said, "Yes."

"Then you appear to have all the same information as the Ministry. The question is, Mr. Potter, how exactly did Alecto Carrow come to possess it? You said she knew Longbottom was the witness. Bellatrix Lestrange did not know who it was, we can be sure, because Longbottom's story easily confirms this. Thus, the only people who know about Longbottom are the Ministry, the _Daily Prophet_, you, and some of your staff. We can be absolutely certain there are no spies in the Ministry or the _Prophet_, thus, my eye's gaze turns to you, Mr. Potter."

"Excuse me?" said Harry. "Are you insinuating I am reporting to Lord Voldemort?! Were you born yesterday? He _killed _my parents, Bellatrix Lestrange killed my godfather, his Death Eaters killed my friends. I take care of Remus Lupin's child because of what they did! Ron lost a brother! Do you _really _think I would be working with them?"

"No, of course not," said Besierwan unconvincingly. "But I believe there is a spy in Hogwarts, an agent of the Dark Lord."

_Dark Lord?_ What happened to the official, and frequently used title by the Ministry of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

"There very well could be," Harry replied icily. "But, don't you think that I'm quite capable of finding the spy? I was Head Auror up until a few weeks ago."

"You're right, Mr. Potter, and I believe, for now, we can safely assume you are not a spy. However, I will have all of your staff interviewed today."

Besierwan turned to Ron and Hermione. "Beginning with you two, I think. Please, follow me, and current Head Auror Thomas."

The Minister stood and shot Harry a cold glance, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, and followed him out of the office, Dean Thomas in their wake. Once the door closed, Harry drew hit wand and burned the chair that Besierwan had occupied. What had just transpiredwas unacceptable.

_**Much dialog, but, maybe you got a clue as to how Alecto Carrow happened to find the information…. Hahahaha! I'm laughing to myself, you don't even know! Not to worry, not to worry, when you find out, everything will make sense. Perhaps a review or two?**_


	7. Rebirth and Death

_**A/N: Review answers!**_

_**Anime-StarWars-fan-zach: I say that the Minister is the informat for old Voldy. Makes sense to me. Great chapter.**_

_**Xarkun's answer: Makes sense to me, too, but you're not quite right there. I'll tell you that the spy who found out about Neville was inside the school, just like the Minister said. Also, if any of you can tell me where the name Besierwan comes from, you'll probably be able to figure out some of the plot. Hahaha!**_

_**Vasagirl: I'm surprised you were the only one to mention that particular aspect, someone else HAD to pick that up! I do occasionally write fluff and filler, but that WAS indeed important. For those of you who wish to know, check out the review. Also, the only thing I changed from Deathly Hallows, if you remember, was Bellatrix's death. I was disappointed with it, so you know, I took a liberty. Everything else remains the same, besides deaths of certain teacher in between this story and mine such as the professor who taught Arithmancy before Hermione, etc. Thus, Peter Pettigrew is dead, so no, not him! Now, I'm sure you all remember what I wrote and don't even have to check the review.**_

_**And, without further ado, I present to you Chapter 7, which, like the number's importance to magic, this chapter shall be important not only for Lord Voldemort's plan, but also for Harry's. **_

_Chapter 7: Rebirth and Death  
_

There was an air about Hogwarts, stale, and tense. The Ministry of Magic had only just finished their official inquiry of the appearance of Alecto Carrow yesterday, which was Thursday. Of course, their investigation amounted to nothing, after vigorously interviewing every member of the staff, they were satisfied none of them were spies, which only frustrated them, and made lives even worse. It was doubtful that any students would be in league with Lord Voldemort, so Besierwan had simply pulled out every one of the three dozen Aurors he'd sent, and left the school in peace.

Their departure did nothing, however, to abolish the dark mood set about the place.

It was not an exaggeration to say that _everyone _was not feeling particularly cheery, or positive that Friday. Most especially not Harry, nor his son, Albus.

Harry, because Rita Skeeter had renewed her campaign of hacking articles, severely criticizing the headmaster. He would have thought—maybe it was only hope—that she'd given up after his employment with the Ministry was terminated. Sadly, in the back of his mind, he knew a time would come… and so it had. Mostly, the nasty journalist had ranted about Harry's lack of security at the school, criticizing how easy it was to attack and kill a man there. She, of course, had failed to point out that the barman had not been killed upon the grounds, and that the wards that guarded Hogwarts were still strong and working. In short, she had made it look worse than it actually was, and it was bad enough already.

Albus had a different reason to be bitter and negative, however. Today was Friday, the day he would have detention with Aurora Sinistra after class, which likely meant he'd be up till three in the morning writing lines or polishing telescopes. This was not appealing at all, since an irate and fed-up-with-the-Ministry Professor had assigned him, and his peers an essay, twenty inches of parchment.

McGonagall, naturally.

Thus, being forced to stay awake on a Friday night until three o'clock in the morning was not helpful to the task Albus needed to complete the following day. He could have, in theory, tried to write it before midnight, before class, however, he had been far too exhausted. Now he was, in a word, screwed, because it was nearly midnight, and he, along with Hugo, Phil, and Rose, were making their way to the Astronomy Tower.

Upon entrance to Sinistra's classroom, they were immediately instructed to read the next chapter in their textbooks, and then gaze at the stars with partners. Albus and Hugo paired, leaving Phil and Rose to complete the assignment. Sinistra constantly shot snide remarks at Albus, and criticized nearly everything he did in one way or another, all the way from his handwriting, to the exact spot he aimed his telescope. Honestly, he had no idea how he could ever get through detention with this woman, she was worse than any teacher he'd ever met before. In fact… he was constantly forced to remember his middle name, and the man who had donned it before him. Severus Snape.

Albus remembered his father's stories about the potions master. He was, of course, a brave man, and one Harry respected in retrospect. However, he'd apparently picked on the current headmaster so much that Harry really had despised him. Albus felt his father's shared feelings of mutual respect, and slight bitterness with Snape. Right now, Albus felt zero respect for Sinistra, but all bitterness, and annoyance, and anger.

He dreaded when class should end, and detention begin. But, end it did, and Rose, and Hugo, and Phil all shuffled out, offering Albus some words of encouragement that he found hollow and unhelpful.

Once the last student, a rather clumsy Slytherin, had finally exited the classroom, and the door slammed shut behind him, Sinistra, standing tall, imperious, almost, next to her office door spoke.

"Well, well, well, Potter. We'll enjoy this, now, won't we?" Sinistra asked, chuckling rather girlishly. Albus wanted to rip the curly black hair from the woman's head.

"I suppose," Albus muttered instead.

"Well, now, Mr. Potter, how do you suggest we start? I've got an idea! How about something tedious and useless, perhaps concentration on a particular task will improve your alertness and focus in class?! Yes?! I think it will, I really do. Alright, first, clean every single one of my desks. Children are often wrought with sickness, and it spreads like… sickness. It'll be fall soon, and the colder it gets, the sicker people become…. Well, once you are finished you'll just have to clean all the telescopes as well, then come into my office, and I'll find some more chores for you to do. Have fun, little Mr. Potter, and no magic!" Sinistra exclaimed, giggling under her breath as she entered her domain and closed the door behind her.

Albus clenched his fists for a moment, and his knuckles cracked. He exhaled sharply, and began his work.

The cleaning of desks was not hard, but it took a while. Once he was finished, he moved on to the telescopes. They were more difficult since there seemed to be more of them then there were desks. As he was unable to use magic, Albus was forced to scrub clean every single lens with a rag. This task, more than any other he'd ever done, seemed to go on for an age of the world, if not an eternity.

By the time he was finished, it was nearly three o'clock in the morning, and Albus was so exhausted and weighted down by his frustration and irritation that he threw the rag off the tower and voiced his loathing for Professor Aurora Sinistra into the night.

He then strode back into the classroom, brushing past the sparkling clean desks, toward the astronomer's door, and knocked.

"It's not locked," a muffled yell stated from behind the barrier.

Albus sighed and threw it open, he stepped in to Sinistra's office then and took the seat she offered in front of her desk. The room was circular, and dark, covered in black tapestries peppered with silver stars. Paintings of the cosmos lined the walls, but… they weren't really of the cosmos… were they? Many were quite abstract and had an emerald glow about them. Sinistra's desk was made out of black wood, upon it sat many models of the solar system.

Supplies lined the perimeter of the walls, almost all of it, save for the exit to the office itself and the entrance to either a closet, or possibly Sinistra's sleeping quarters.

"Well, Mr. Potter, what now shall I have you do? Grade essays? No, no, you're far too unfocused for that, we can't put the future of other students in your hands, now, can we? So, then, how about some lines, yes? Just until I think you've gained the proper amount of concentration. Right…." Sinistra stood, placing a black bottle on her desk, apparently an aged container of gin.

Albus watched as the professor walked to the perimeter of her office, bending down to open a black chest with a rocky texture. It bore a heavy padlock, apparently magical as the teeth of the key used Sinistra constantly shrank, grew, and changed patterns. A resonating click rang through the air as the lock was disengaged. The woman pulled it free, setting it on the ground for a moment. She pulled back the lid, and almost immediately an awful stench wafted into the room. Albus nearly gagged.

What the bloody hell was in that chest?!

As far as he could see, a shelf outlined the perimeter near the top, it was full of objects, mostly quills and empty black bottles, some of which must have contained gin, others surly contained ink. However, Albus could not see what lay at the bottom, but whatever it was, it must have been producing the unworldly smell.

Sinistra coughed as she grabbed two bottles and a quill from the black chest. She closed it, locked it, and made her way back to her desk. She handed Albus the bottle of ink and the quill, then proceeded to take a sip of her gin, and finally pulled out a long scroll of parchment from a drawer on her desk, setting it before him as well.

"Now, young Mr. Potter…."

But 'young Mr. Potter' was no longer aware of what elderly Professor Sinistra was saying. The smell was far too distracting, and burned his nostrils. He felt sick, but he must not lose his dinner upon the astronomer's desk, otherwise he'd have to clean it as well as write lines.

"Mr. Potter!" Sinistra snapped angrily, apparently noticing he was not listening to her.

"Sorry," said Albus. "Just… what is that smell?"

"What smell?" the professor inquired, sniffing the air. "Ah, that? Nothing, nothing, why, what's wrong with it?"

"It's _horrible_."

"What? I think it smells rather pleasant."

The woman was _insane_. No person in the correct mental state could conceivably believe that the smell that had been unleashed from the black chest was pleasant. No one!

"What is it?!" Albus asked once more.

"Nothing, nothing, but it's obviously a distraction to you…. Good, it ought to help you focus. Begin writing your lines."

"What do you want me to write?" asked Albus, attempting to breathe as little as possible. He'd already attempted to inhale through his mouth, but that was worse, he could _taste _the smell.

"You will write 'I must focus in class, and never lose concentration' until I tell you to stop. Begin!"

Sinistra sat down and Albus took up the quill.

He wrote the same line over and over again for at least an hour, during which time, the smell faded to almost nothing, but traces of it were still there…. Sinistra studied him intently as he wrote, smiling as he began to grow weary. Once he nodded off, but only for a second as the astronomer sent a weak stinging hex his way.

He wrote on, anger growing, and exhaustion threatening to take him. Sinistra showed no signs of tiredness. She took a sip of gin and watched him write for another hour. By then, his parchment was spent and he was completely exhausted.

"Enough," said the astronomer finally, taking another sip of gin. "Out with you, Potter. Go to bed, you look awful."

Albus did not even bother to reply, he merely stood up, and sluggishly strode to the Gryffindor common room, too exhausted to be angry.

XxX

The room was dark. This time, no emerald flames provided light. And, as Bellatrix came to the end of her trek, the only indicator that someone sat in the natural room beyond her was the sight of two red eyes, glowing in the pitch black. Instantly, a green fire sprang up before the eyes, illuminating the man who possessed them. Lord Voldemort was seated on his chair.

The Death Eater kneeled.

"Rise," said the Dark Lord simply.

"We're ready," Bellatrix informed him.

"Good. I would have liked to kill this one myself, at this crucial stage. But I trust you in my stead, Bella. Do not fail me this time, you know the wrath of Lord Voldemort is terrible."

"I do, my lord. But, perhaps there is a way you might be able to kill the next one. There's a woman, you see, that I intend to use, already got the polyjuice potion brewed. I'll find our target, bring him away from the public eye, and then call you. You can kill him!"

"I had considered that. Very well my dear Bella. I shall kill him, ensure we are alone, and do not fail me."

"Of course not my lord, it will be a delicious privilege to watch you work again!"

XxX

As he had requested, a knock sounded upon his door a little bit after lunch had been finished.

"Enter," said Harry from his desk.

The door opened and Minerva McGonagall entered, shutting it behind her. Harry drew his wand to cast a useful charm upon the door, one that would not allow anyone to hear them, however, McGonagall beat him to it. Evidently she realized how important this conversation would be without Harry having to tell her. She took a seat before him, on a chair he had previously made ready.

"Would you care for something to drink? Right now, all I've got is firewhisky and gin, usually a muggle drink, but I'm rather fond of it, so is Aurora Sinistra."

"Don't we all know it?" said McGonagall. "Yes, Mr. Potter, I believe a drink would be customary for a civilized conversation."

"Alright," said Harry, using a levitation charm to pour a generous helping of gin into McGonagall's glass, and then his own. Each took a sip before resuming their conversation.

"This isn't exactly a civilized conversation, though. I've had this my mind for a while now. You're really the only one in the school, pardon me for saying this, but you're the only one left alive from the Order, one of the senior members anyway, no offense intended."

"None taken, and I agree. It is high time the Order be resurrected."

"I think so, too. What's good is that we have many candidates. There is me, there is you, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Andromeda Tonks, Teddy Lupin, Fleur and Bill, many more Weasleys, as well as, possibly, the entire DA."

"Indeed, the DA was quite large, many of them would be assets to a new Order of the Phoenix."

"Right. So, we need to arrange a meeting, and soon, Voldemort is moving. I think Number 12 Grimmauld Place would be good. I live there, and Voldemort is not publically showing his face or his Death Eaters, they are not hunting for the Order, it doesn't exist yet. Afterwards, of course, we'll need to discuss an alternate base, but for a meeting, it will suffice."

"Very well, Harry, I believe that is all. I will draft up a list for you of former students, namely members of the DA, as well as members from the former Order." McGonagall said, finishing her gin.

"Thank you, Minerva," said Harry, noting she had used his first name. The professor smiled and stood, as did the headmaster. A feeling of mutual respect had solidified between the two, co-founders of a new order. McGonagall shook Harry's hand respectively before turning to leave.

"Good afternoon," the headmaster bid.

"Afternoon," said the professor before exiting.

XxX

In the country side of England, far secluded from any muggle metropolitan filth pits, lay a secluded dwelling. Quaint it was, and quite girly, painted in a sickening shade of pink. It was also a magical dwelling, enchanted with every anti-muggle and anti-intruder charm and ward possible. The one who lived in it must be a woman, rather eccentric, and maybe kindly.

No.

In fact, the opposite. In that house dwelled a woman rather sane, and tactful, with a horrible personality, like a honey-coated apple with a rotten core, and this woman was not kindly at all, but wretched, racist, and an all around bitch. At least, that was Bellatrix Lestrange's impression of her, and, truthfully, the Death Eater was looking forward to this woman's pain, but not looking forward to how her polyjuice potion would taste.

Bellatrix made her way up toward the white, picket fence surrounding the pink dwelling. A ward guarded the old style gate. A flick of a wand, and it was no more. Merely a muggle deterrent. The cloaked Death Eater continued on, drawing from her robes an official looking document. She made her way to the porch of the house, and knocked upon the windowless, wooden, and pink door.

"_Hem, hem,_" came a sound in greeting. That of an elderly woman clearing her throat. "Just a moment."

Bellatrix waited there a few moments, and was suddenly aware that the elderly woman's eyes were on her by some magical means.

"What is your business here?" squeaked the voice behind the door.

"Official Ministry errand," replied the Death Eater, holding up her official paper before her, assuming the woman would see it.

"I see, very well, those appear to be consistent with Ministry documents. Wait a moment."

The sound of locks disengaging interrupted the relative silence of the outside. After a few moments (probably of disengaging wards as well) the door opened, revealing to professionally dressed, rather plump form of a toad-like woman.

"Dolores Umbridge," Bellatrix said, pulling down her hood slightly. "May I step in?"

"Of course, of course. Who are you, if I may ask? You know, I'm getting ready to leave for the Ministry right now, you seem familiar. Can I take your cloak, dear?"

"Of course," replied the Death Eater, shrugging it off. If fell to the floor, much like the heart of the toad before her fell, straight to its pudgy, pink-shoed feet.

"Y-you!" Umbridge stuttered. "You! It was you, the Imperius Curse! Well, I ought—"

"To do what?" sneered Bellatrix, pointing her wand at the toad's hideous nose. The door slammed shut behind the Death Eater as her foot made contact with it. Umbridge back stepped.

"Well, you'll have no information from me! None! And you shall not put me under the influence of your curse again! I am Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the—"

"Do put a sock in it, love," snapped the Bellatrix. "I'm what amounts to the Senior Undersecretary to my lord, I'd reckon, but you don't see me flaunting it around like some enchanted jewelry! What makes so sure I want information from you, or to put you under the Imperius Curse again?"

"What else could you possibly want from me?"

"What if I said I wanted you, dead?"

Umbridge gulped.

"Well… well, I would—"

"I don't care, you know? Do you really think I care? I don't. But, there is one thing I'd like to know. What was it like instructing Harry Potter in Defense Against the Dark Arts? Was he a good boy, a shy itty, bitty lonesome mudblood orphan? Eh, toady?"

"How dare you speak of me like that? Of course Harry Potter was a horrible student, always trying to act out, I think he was a proponent to You-Know-Who's cause! Did he send you hear to harm me?!"

"No, afraid not."

"Well, either way, I will not have this!" Umbridge screeched, drawing her wand too quickly for Bellatrix to stop her.

"Oh dear, now you've done it. This is going to be fun."

"Ha! I am trained in many defensive and offensive forms of magic, and I am not afraid to use Unforgivable Curses, especially not on you!"

"That makes two of us."

"_Crucio!" _both women cried. Each spell found its mark, however, since its caster had been hit by the other, both lost concentration and nothing came of either curse.

Bellatrix, however, moved a few seconds quicker than her opponent. She slashed her wand wordlessly, and Umbridge flew back into the hallway behind her, landing on a stairway and knocking over a doily-encumbered table. The Death Eater strode toward her disabled foe, and stepped on her opponent's wand which had been dropped.

Umbridge gasped, and her demeanor changed instantly.

"Please! I'll give you anything you want, information, money, I'll spy, I'll do anything! Don't kill me! Please!"

"All very useful, indeed, I'd reckon, coming from you. However, simply speaking, it's just easier to do away with you, and great fun! _Crucio_!"

Dolores Umbridge's screams echoed through her own home, scaring the paintings of kittens on her walls deep into the recesses of their canvases. The toad twitched and withered under the effects of the Torture Curse. Bellatrix giggled like a child with a new toy and upped the power of her spell, savoring the shrieks of agony sounding from Umbridge's throat.

Finally, she released her victim, laughing insanely.

"Can you tell me something?" Bellatrix asked, smiling broadly. "Have you actually ever been under the influence of the Cruciatus Curse? You aren't afraid to cast it, I see. But have you been under it?"

"How dare you—"

"SHUT UP! FILTHY MUDBLOOD WOMAN! I'll ask you again, have you ever been under the Cruciatus Curse before?!"

"No!"

"Thought not. Well, Umbridge, it's been enjoyable. Except I'm on a tight schedule. So…. I promise it's not going to hurt… unfortunately, then again, I don't know. I'd love it if it did..."

"You mustn't do this, you mustn't!"

"I must. _Avada Kedavra_!"

Bellatrix put away her wand, and strode up to Umbridge's dead form. She kneeled beside it, and from her head plucked two strands of iron gray hair, then from her robes drew a vial of polyjuice potion, large enough to last her twelve ours, should she drink it sparingly enough. The Death Eater dropped the hairs into her concoction and watched it change to a brilliant golden color, as she suspected it would. Bracing herself, she took a sip and nearly wretched. The potion had appeared tasty, but in fact was sour, and had a congealed texture about it, like spoiled milk.

For a long moment, her skin rippled and bubbled like brewing potion. She shrank several feet, but her sides grew, her hair seemed to stand up straight, and shoot back into her skull somewhat, while changing from coal black to iron gray. And there she stood, Bellatrix Lestrange as an exact copy of her most recent victim.

The Death Eater spun, exited the house, and disapparated to her next destination, the Ministry.

There she remained for the day, taking swigs of potion secretly every hour, and attempted to keep her façade of Umbridge alive and well. For the most part, she succeeded. Once the regular work day had ended, she waited around the atrium, scanning the dwindling masses for one specific person. She found him, and followed him to one of the fireplaces lining the wall. He stepped in, and she entered the one next to him.

They both ended up in the same place, and Bellatrix tailed him to the streets of London, before finally making her move. She used her pudgy hand to tap him on the shoulder and garner his attention.

"Mr. Thomas," she said, in her Umbridge voice.

"Yes, Ms. Umbridge?" asked Dean Thomas, turning to face her.

"I have some business to discuss with you, quickly, I promise, but it should not be done in the sight of the public."

Bellatrix inclined her head to indicate a dark alley to the left.

"Alright," said Dean. He followed her there and tailed her until she found the end of the passage, and turned to the left, completely away from any prying eyes.

The sound of a bell rang through the air as the hour ended, and Bellatrix felt the change coming….

"So, what was it you wanted to discuss?"

But the Death Eater ignored him, she extended her arm as it shrank it thickness, and grew in length. Dean immediately drew his wand as the Dark Mark began to return. Bellatrix immediately called the her lord, and the Mark burned black. She laughed as her transformation back to her regular form completed, and Lord Voldemort apparated next to her.

Before Thomas could make a move, he was disarmed. The Dark Lord chuckled.

"Dean Thomas, we meet, and for the last time, I'm afraid," said Voldemort.

"Why—"

"Have I come? A simple reason, you ought to be proud. Lord Voldemort does not risk his safety to murder people often. You are a special case, indeed."

"You'll never—"

"Spare me the clichéd, heroic statements," snapped the Dark Lord. "Be silent, and face your fate. _Avada Kedavra_!"


	8. Pieces of the Puzzle

A/N: I just thought you all should know that I had a VERY difficult time plotting out this chapter, some things need to happen right now, and I wasn't actually sure how to embody them, so the product is this

_**A/N: I just thought you all should know that I had a VERY difficult time plotting out this chapter, some things need to happen right now, and I wasn't actually sure how to embody them, so the product is this. Namely, these things include the beginning steps to resurrect the Order of the Phoenix, as well as putting together some pieces of Voldemort's plan, because Harry, and Albus, I think, too need to begin to guess what Voldemort plans to do, you know? Anyway, I'll shut up and let you read what I hope will be a very interesting, chapter that is less painless to write than it was to plot.**_

_Chapter 8: Pieces of the Puzzle_

Harry was sick of being cooped up in his office. Dumbledore was never in his portrait, ever, neither was, at the very least, Snape, so he could not seek their advice. And he had no work to complete there at the moment. Right now he was very close to grabbing hold of his mess of jet black hair (which was slowly beginning to gray, though it was not very pronounced, as of yet) and ripping chunks of it out. Constantly, there was only one thing driving his being, one thought, Voldemort. He felt obsessed with it, thinking of ways to pass the time before he either came up with an idea on when to contact potential members for a new Order, or before… and this seemed horribly cold to him… Voldemort murdered again, and provided him with a lead.

He consumed now, most of the time, and was constantly searching for a distraction. That was probably why he was exiting his office now, perhaps to seek out a conversation with Ron or Hermione, have some amount of fun, like he could when he was a student at this school.

He was granted a conversation, but not with someone he'd expected, because on his way down the spiral staircase from his office, he ran in to Minerva McGonagall who seemed, for a brief description, insanely harassed.

In one hand she held a crinkled, rolled-up copy of what Harry assumed was the _Daily Prophet_, the edge of which was protruding from the smooth surface of its cylindrical position. It was ruffled slightly, as though sweaty fingertips had grasped it for a long period of time. McGonagall literally shoved it in his face.

"Look at the front page!" she exclaimed. "Another death, horrible!"

"What?" Harry inquired, immediately taking the paper from her hand. "Who?!"

"Dean Thomas," said McGonagall, her voice fast, excited, and grim.

"What?!" was all Harry could shout in response.

"It's all right there, in your hand. He was found dead in London, in an alleyway by muggles, no less! Also, Dolores Umbridge is missing, apparently Aurors are being sent to her home to investigate, they're probably already there, and I'm sure something horrible has happened to her as well." McGonagall said tartly. Harry knew she never had any fondness toward Umbridge.

"I'm not sure how she could be connected with Dean, but… that's terrible," said Harry, he'd never been fond of Umbridge either, but still, he hadn't wished for her death. "The Auror Office is going to be in a chaos without a level-headed leader like Dean."

"I know, and I suspect it's part of _his _plan. We need to move quickly with the Order."

"Yes, we do. I need you to talk to Ron, Hermione, and Neville then, tell them what we have planned for the Order. I'm going to give my house elf Kreacher the list of DA members you gave me, he'll fetch them, he's good at that, and then go talk to Malfoy about it. I think he'll be an asset."

"Indeed," said McGonagall, turning to descend the staircase. Harry followed her and both went their separate directions wordlessly.

XxX

Fall was indeed approaching. Leaves were loosing their forest green glow, and being replaced by burnt sienna, crimson, yellow, and brown. Though neither Albus, nor Hugo, Rose, or Phil could enjoy such sights for the next few hours as they had a double period of Potions, taking place in the damp, rather chilly dungeons. The group treaded quietly down the narrow, winding stairway before reaching a cold, stone hall, directly in front of them, the entrance to the Potions classroom. They entered and took their seats.

The place had a rather green tinge to it today, and smelled of recently brewed concoctions. As Albus unpacked his supplies, Horace Slughorn burst in, elderly, and almost too large to fit through the door easily. He bounded forward to his desk, and stood before it and the black bored adjacent to it. He cleared his throat.

"Did you all catch the _Prophet_?" he asked rather glumly.

"I did," chirped Rose.

"Anyone else?" asked Slughorn.

No one answered. Albus, Hugo, and Phil had been avoiding the _Prophet _lately.

"Well, Head Auror Dean Thomas was found by muggles today, murdered in London, and I'm sure Dolores Umbridge is going to be found dead any time now. Oh, dear… you see, Mr. Thomas was one of my students when the headmaster was in school, same year…. He was a rather bright student, if I recall… anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is because I want you all to be extremely careful." Slughorn advised. Of course, the professors of the past few classes they'd all had warned the very same. "Use extreme caution, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will kill anyone for his own benefits, I've lived through three of these events before, I know. Many murders are for a reason, it always seemed to turn out, but that wont stop him from taking out anyone that gets in his way, and I don't want to see a picture of any of you on the front page of the _Prophet_."

'_Many murders are for a reason… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will kill anyone for his own benefits…'_ the words echoed after Slughorn spoke them in Albus' head. Then, suddenly, it came to him, something obvious that he hadn't quite seen when the potions master had first mentioned Dean Thomas' death.

"Sir," said Albus.

"Yes, Albus m'boy?"

"What happens if the Head Auror is killed with no replacement?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, who replaces the Head Auror if he has no replacement?" asked Albus, wording it differently.

"Well, one of two things, I suppose. The Minister selects a candidate, and the Wizengamot approves, otherwise the Minister becomes somewhat of the de facto leader until a replacement is found. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," said Albus, not quite sure why he had asked anymore. Perhaps Voldemort was planning to take over the Auror Office, that was his initial thought, but with the Minister and Wizengamot as a safety net, he wasn't sure. He ought to just forget about it now.

"Alright. Now, on that note, I say we do something fun today, to get our minds off these dark times. Everyone, gather round with the groups at your table, and together, brew me something fun and creative. Whoever's potion I deem best shall win a prize… what it is, I don't know, I had a different lesson plan but the hell with it! It's morbid around here, so brew me up something fun."

XxX

Malfoy's classroom was empty, and Harry found it rather dull. He made his way through the rows of desk, to the door to Malfoy's office, and gave two, loud knocks.

"Enter," drawled Malfoy from the other side. Harry did so, and found his most recent hire busily grading a pile of essays. Malfoy looked up, somewhat surprised to see Harry standing there.

"May I sit down?" asked the headmaster.

"Go ahead," said Malfoy, setting down his quill, and pushing the essays out of the way. "I know why you're here."

"You do?"

"Yes, and I already have suspicions too, he held me captive and forced me to work for him for the better part of a year."

"What? No, that's not why I came… I mean, it has to do with Voldemort, but, not that," said Harry rather awkwardly.

Malfoy flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. He simply said, "oh."

"Well, I guess you might as well tell me what you suspect, it could be helpful."

"I think he's trying to disband the Auror Office and leave the Ministry vulnerable. Last time he… came back, he infiltrated it, this time, I think he might try to take it by force."

"I don't know, they'll just elect a new Head Auror. They proved they can do that pretty quickly when they fired me," Harry said somewhat bitterly. "Anyway, we need solid information, and I found that hunches are the best place to start. We're organizing, that's why I came to you…."

Harry trailed off, not completely sure he trusted Malfoy.

"You're going to fight him?"

"You could say that."

"I want in."

"What?" Harry sputtered, taken aback slightly.

"Potter," Malfoy snapped, reminding Harry of his school days. "After what he did to my parents, and my wife, you think I'm just going to sit here and do nothing?"

"Oh." This time, it was Harry's turn to mutter the word. "Good…. We're going to have a meeting sometime soon, I'll contact you when we have a set date and location."

"Good, now, Potter, can you leave me to my grading for a bit?"

"Sure thing, Malfoy."

XxX

After finishing a particularly filling, large dinner, Harry made his way slowly to Professor McGonagall's office, with the mind to speak to her. However, upon his arrival, he found she was not there. Where could she be, then? Not in the staff room, he'd just come from there and was sure he would have run in to her. Maybe the Gryffindor common room? Perhaps she had some sort of announcement to make…. Wait, that seemed entirely plausible. After all, Quidditch would be beginning this weekend, he nearly forgot!

Harry made his way to the seventh floor, and his trek took him past the Room of Requirement whose doors immediately appeared and opened as he walked past. Slightly stunned (as he had never tried to use the Room again after that incident with the fiendfyre) he stopped, and watched as Professor Trelawney exited. He saw behind her, an almost completely empty, stone room, filled with an assortment of books and empty bottles that had once contained sherry. Trelawney stopped dead, and the doors closed behind her.

"You!" she croaked in her misty voice, pointing a finger at him. "You are in grave danger."

"I usually am," replied Harry.

"No, no, no," she insisted, her voice changing to those deep, harsh tones. "This time is different! _Heed! A danger looms within the Chosen One's domain, for he is still destined to defeat the growing evil for all eternity! But this danger is not for him alone. It can be prevented if the vial key is found before the traitor's final proclamation!" _

Harry simply stood there, watching her. She blinked her eyes and frowned at him.

"Something the matter, Headmaster? You look as though you've seen the Grim."

"Um… no, not really. I need to be going."

"As do I! Walking around the school clouds the Inner Eye, you know. I find I cannot see for hours on end, after my journeying."

"Right," said Harry. "Goodnight then, Professor."

"Goodnight, Headmaster!" Trelawney exclaimed in her usual mystical tones, she set off in the opposite direction as Harry made his way toward the Gryffindor common room, trying to ignore what he'd heard, but he found this very difficult. Trelawney had spoken like that before, once during his third year when he thought Sirius Black was out to murder him, and again in the shattered prophecy about him and Voldemort that he assumed had been filled more than twenty years ago.

What _had _she meant by a 'danger looming in the Chosen One's domain' and that it 'was not for him alone'? What was his domain, Hogwarts? What was the danger, then? Was there really a spy, perhaps? And what of this 'vile key'? A vile key, what could it possibly be? What key was vile?

So many questions were still racing through his mind as he approached the Fat Lady's portrait. It immediately opened before he could say anything, and Professor McGonagall exited, shutting it behind her.

"Ah, Harry, I was just announcing the Quidditch… what's the matter, Headmaster? You look as though you've seen the ghost of someone living."

"Not really. I was… coming to ask you about when we should hold the…." Harry glanced at the Fat Lady who was now pretending to sleep, but what did it matter? "… meeting. But I ran into to Professor Trelawney and she… predicted something."

"Your impending death, no doubt," scoffed McGonagall. "Why are you putting faith in what she says? You know as well as I do that Divination is an imprecise branch of magic, and Trelawney is as imprecise a conduit to it."

"No. This was different, she didn't—well at first she told me I was in grave danger—she predicted something else. It happened in my 3rd year too. Whenever she predicts something, and I mean credibly predicts something, her voice changes…."

"What exactly did she say?" asked McGonagall, clearly skeptical.

Harry paraphrased it, and added at the end that she seemed to act as though she didn't remember it. McGonagall's eyebrows angled downward.

"Well, the only part I understand is the Chosen One's domain. You're the Chosen One, and your domain is either Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place, but I doubt some 'vile key' would be hidden in Grimmauld Place, so she must have been referring to Hogwarts. But this is all imprecise, remember, it's probably nothing, like most of what Sibyll _guesses_. What could she possibly have meant by the traitor's final proclamation?"

"I don't know…" said Harry, deep in thought.

"This is probably not the time nor the place to discuss this, if there is anything that merits discussion in what Sibyll said."

"You're right, we need to decide on a time for the meeting, however."

"I've been considering that carefully as well."

"Fall is here, anyway. Quidditch is starting, why not on Halloween? All the students will be celebrating, and they'll be less likely to notice half the staff is gone."

"I doubt that, but it'll likely improve our chances. I agree, Halloween it must be. Now, Headmaster, if you don't mind, I have papers to grade before I turn in, goodnight to you."

_**For being a difficult chapter to plot, it surely wasn't that long. Anyway, I'd have to say this at least marks the half-way point in this story. Now all I have to do is figure out how to do what I want done…. Good luck to me with that, huh? This is far more complicated a plot to work to than I thought it would be, because it's relatively simple. Oh well, enough of my vague discussion of the plot, if you'd be so kind as to click review… you might be presented with the next chapter (containing a clue-full Voldemort scene I reckon) more quickly than if you didn't.**_


	9. Meetings

A/N: Sadly, I'm not JK Rowling, if I was, this would be a hell of a lot easier, but since I'm not I don't completely know which Death Eaters are alive and which are dead

_**A/N: Sadly, I'm not JK Rowling, if I was, this would be a hell of a lot easier, but since I'm not I don't completely know which Death Eaters are alive and which are dead. Thus, you might see some liberties taken in this chapter, as it will end with Voldemort and his cronies meeting and discussing their plan. Then, after this chapter, no more discussing things to death, we'll move on to some better stuff, shall we?**_

_Chapter 9: Meetings_

Two weeks had passed since Harry spoke to McGonagall about the Order of the Phoenix meeting on Halloween. These weeks had been relatively quiet. No murders in the _Daily Prophet _had been publicized, which either meant they were being covered up, or the brighter situation, none had taken place at all. Instead, the _Prophet _chose to cover recent, already publicized murders to make up for the lack of juicy, current, frightening news. Rita Skeeter wrote an in depth article about the murder of Dean Thomas, which led to her publicizing the fact that Alonzo Besierwan took over the Auror Office after approval from the Wizengamot.

Dolores Umbridge had also been found dead in her home. A deduction had been formed on how she was connected to the murder of Dean. Rita Skeeter hypothesized that Umbridge's killer had come to her house, murdered her, and used her hair for a Polyjuice Potion. Then, under the disguise of the Senior Undersecretary, the perpetrator had lured Thomas into the alleyway and killed him. This claim was backed up by several comments from various witches and wizards within the Ministry.

Many of them attested that Umbridge seemed different that day, not quite herself. She was harsher than usual, and even fired a man for knocking on her office door during her lunch hour, at which time she usually went home. This, of course, led to Rita Skeeter putting two and two together, and printing that theory.

Harry, for once, had to agree with her, and even guessed that that particular article actually contained more fact than fiction, even though it was based off guesswork.

Halloween had come. McGonagall, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Malfoy had left Hogwarts promptly after the customary feast, so as not to be missed by any students. The remainder of the staff, of course, knew they were to be leaving, but did not know where. All six of them now sat around a crowded table in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place which was far nicer than the last time the Order had assembled there. Kreacher had cleaned the place up, and kept it well maintained, and it probably helped that Ginny dwelled in the place as well. It was still considerably dark, but nowhere near as dirty, or full of cobwebs and such.

Joining the six at the table were many other people, still-living members of the former Order of the Phoenix, as well as members of Dumbledore's Army. Harry was truthfully floored by how many had come to the meeting. Besides himself and his select few staff members, there was almost the entire remainder of the Weasley family, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny (who lived there anyway), as well as George and his wife Angelina, Harry remembered her from his days in Gryffindor. Also joining them were Bill and Fleur, Charlie. Andromeda Tonks, and Teddy Lupin were also there. The last real living members to be connected with the Order (save for Teddy Lupin, of course, and Angelina), at least, those who had come.

But the DA members far outnumbered those of the former Order.

From the DA came Lee Jordan, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood (who was of course married to Neville, so she was a given), Lavender Brown, Michael Corner, Seamus, and most of the other members who were not dead. Harry felt a pang of sadness, Dean had been in the DA.

Harry glanced around at everyone. The kitchen was simply crammed with people; some were forced to stand while others sat. The meeting had not begun yet, so all were talking amongst themselves in a dull roar, some accepting refreshments from Kreacher who was all too happy to serve them. Finally, Harry looked at McGonagall, then Ron, then Hermione, all of whom were sitting near him at the head of the table. They each nodded their approval, and Harry stood to call the meeting to order.

Harry cleared his throat loudly, and instantly grabbed everyone's attention. The noise in the room immediately vanished, as though there had been none in the first place, and all eyes were on Harry.

"Professor McGonagall and I called this meeting for one purpose," Harry began, deciding to start right off. "To reform the Order of the Phoenix in light of Voldemort's return."

Very few people flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. That was good.

"It was only a matter of time, anyway," Hermione piped in. "We all know you've probably been trying to do something to halt Voldemort anyway. Most of us are former members of the DA or the Order here."

Several people murmured amongst themselves.

"To start off, we need information, if we are to act, but first, everyone must swear they will never speak of this meeting."

"I've brought a list for you each to sign," announced McGonagall, holding up a blank piece of parchment. "Anyone who signs this parchment will be magically obligated not to tell anyone about this meeting. Not to worry, your names will turn invisible once signed, and can only be revealed to either myself or Mr. Potter. If you have any second thoughts about pledging yourself to the fight against Lord Voldemort, leave this house at once."

Nobody moved.

"Very well," said McGonagall. She produced a bottle of ink, uncorked it, and then dipped a quill into it. In her clear, slanted handwriting she signed her name across the paper. Harry did so next, then Hermione, then Ron, and so on, all the way around the table. The last to sign was Malfoy who did not even hesitate. He handed the paper back to Harry, who looked at the long list of names before they vanished as though the parchment had never been touched. He handed it back to McGonagall.

"You are all magically bound to the Order of the Phoenix, and if you dare speak of any information disclosed in meetings to a non member, you will be sorry you did so, and your interrogator will find it is impossible to question you, should there be one. That said, let us begin, now that we have all been inducted into the new Order." McGonagall stated.

"Right," said Harry. "We need news, leads to follow, before anything…. Does anyone…er… have anything to present?"

He felt incredibly stupid, asking this question. But it was the only way to start doing anything.

"I do, Harry," said Mr. Weasley instantly. All eyes flew to him. "I work at the Ministry, as most of you know. I don't plan to retire until I can no longer work, however, they are trying to force me to, so I don't know how long I'll make a valuable asset. But as far as I can tell there, everyone is completely petrified that… Voldemort might kill them next. Besierwan's taken over the Auror Office, and no one in the Wizengamot denies him anything, and most of the department heads seem to be completely compliant with him. Right now, he's the Ministry's only hope for defeating Voldemort. No one else can really take action."

"Odd things go on in Knockturn Alley, these days as well," said George. He owned the jokes shop, of course, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, thus, he would know of the happenings in Knocturn Alley which connected to Diagon Alley.

"What do you mean?" Harry prodded.

"I reckon Voldemort is recruiting there," said George. "Not only the lot that escaped from Azkaban that we need to worry about now."

"Stopping recruiting must be one of our top priorities," said McGonagall. Everyone voiced their agreement.

"And we need to monitor the Ministry as well, I think," said Harry. "Last time Voldemort infiltrated it and took it very easily. We still have Mr. Weasley for a while."

"I'm working at the Ministry now, too, Harry," Cho said quietly.

"So am I," interjected Seamus. "Sorry I haven't been in contact, just got the job. I'm working in the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"Great," said Harry. "Cho?"

"I'm in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Since Cho had been a rather talented Seeker for Ravenclaw in her time at Hogwarts, Harry did not find this very surprising.

"This is great, we've got assets in good places," said Harry. "We can't plan to do anything right now, though, except another meeting, but we can't do it here again. This is the old Headquarters for the old Order, plus it's my house. We need somewhere secret, somewhere better."

"What about my house?" suggested Teddy Lupin.

Teddy lived out by the English Channel, secluded from muggle dwellings. His house was already Unplottable and, because of its isolation, would serve as good as any for a new Headquarters.

"We can protect it with a Fidelius Charm," said Teddy.

"Are you completely sure you want your home to serve as headquarters?" Harry asked.

"Of course I do, besides, it's about time I let you come to my house after all the dinners I've had here."

Harry smiled at his godson. "That was no problem, and you know it. Does anyone have suggestions for a different Headquarters, or are we all in agreement?"

No one voiced disagreement.

"Teddy Lupin's home it is. We must cast the Fidelius Charm upon it as soon as possible. But…" Harry looked down at his watch. "Professor McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Malfoy, and I really need to be getting back to Hogwarts soon, so we're going to have to cut this meeting short now. But, first, Hermione needs to hand out some… supplies."

Hermione waved her wand, and out of a bag on her lap flew dozens of fake galleons, each floating toward a separate person who grabbed them from the air and examined them.

"These are fake enchanted coins," Harry explained. "Next time there's a meeting, you'll be alerted by them, it's how the DA used to communicate."

"Wonderful, Harry," said Neville. "Feels like old times."

"Right, so try not to spend them by accident," Harry warned. "Now, we really must get going before any suspicion is aroused, but we all need to leave separately, and we can't all use the Floo Network, so if you could all step out separately an apparate…."

No one complained, and Harry waited until they were all gone before bidding farewell to Ginny, and heading back to Hogwarts.

XxX

Yaxley apparated at the mouth of a cave on the sea side, it was impossible to get there other than by magical means. He entered, nerves clutching at his stomach. He was late, but hopefully he should be excused. The Dark Lord would want his information, Yaxley was sure he would understand. It wasn't easy, leaving the Ministry of Magic during working hours. Luckily, a well-placed ally (who was also under the influence of the Imperius Curse) let him off the hook easily. The effects of Yaxley's polyjuice potion had just worn off, as he was impersonating a dead Ministry worker, though no one knew the particular worker was dead, since they thought Yaxley was him.

Yaxley was, after all, a wanted Death Eater… for now. He couldn't exactly show his face in the Ministry. And, he didn't want to show his face to the Dark Lord or any other of his comrades as he treaded deeper into the cave. Coming to a solid wall, he waved his wand, and it slid aside, revealing a black lake, who's surface was like glass. Lord Voldemort had hidden an item in this cave long ago, Yaxley knew, and an army of Inferi lay dormant below the surface of the water within its heart.

Now the Dark Lord used this place as a headquarters, residing in the deeper recesses of the place that were unknown to all but him, until he had shown his Death Eaters. Yaxley stepped into a boat, floating quiet still on the water's surface. It took him across the glassy, black lake, barely disturbing the water as it went. He floated past a small stone island, in the middle of the massive chamber, upon which lay a pillar, supporting an empty basin. On he went, to the opposite end of the chamber from that side through which he entered. There, a small slab of rock jutted from the wall, forming a small platform above the water.

Yaxley stepped onto it, and tapped a certain spot with wand.

Instantly, the spot blackened, fanning out in twisting lines to form a giant image of the Dark Mark which split in the middle, and the solid walls on either side of the split pulled back, revealing an archway which Yaxley entered.

This led into the dark recesses of the cave, which were lit by torches, sporting emerald flame. There were many passages, leading in to rooms, and chambers, though none of them were as large as the one that housed the lake. Yaxley made his way through the maze of passages expertly, stopping in the middle of one, as it began to slant down. He paused, raised his hood, and descended.

After a few moments he found himself before a large, round stone table, that was obviously the product of magic. Seated around it were a great number of hooded witches and wizards. Only one wore no hood, a man with skull-like features, crimson eyes, slits for nostrils, and vertical pupils. Lord Voldemort sat opposite of the entrance, Bellatrix Lestrange to his right, Fenrir Greyback to his left.

"Wonderful for you to join us, Yaxley," said the Dark Lord coldly, but without a hint of anger. He motioned with a long hand to an empty seat. Yaxley bowed and took it.

"Now that all of us are here who can be—" began Voldemort, his eyes flicking toward several empty seats, "—we shall begin. The pieces are now in place my friends; what I have worked for so many years to achieve is almost within our reach. The Ministry stands before us, nearly unprotected, and we are nearly unopposed. We will soon seize it, and this time Lord Voldemort's regime will last forever. All that is left to do is to tie up the loose ends. First, we shall have reports. Yaxley, since you were so kind enough to join us, I suggest you go first. How fares your task at the Ministry?"

"Most of the assets are now in place, my lord," said Yaxley. "We have most of the department heads under our control, many high ranking members of the Wizengamot are in our pocket, and the Auror Office is no longer a pronounced threat to us, as you know."

"Very good, Yaxley. I want the rest of the department heads under my control before winter is out. Whether you have to put them under the Imperius Curse, or manipulate them to conform to my will, I do not care. Just see that it is done. Amycus, what of our source in Hogwarts?"

"No one suspects anything, my lord, she awaits your command, my lord."

"Excellent. Perhaps she will soon have it," said Voldemort with a smile.

"My lord, may I venture you ask something?" inquired Avery.

Voldemort looked at him expressionlessly. "What might that be?"

"What about Harry Potter? Our asset in Hogwarts could easily poison him, kill him in his sleep?"

"You fool!" hissed Voldemort. Avery flinched nervously. "Your stupidity is astounding! You were there when I returned, you saw Potter and me duel after I killed Narcissa and Pansy, and went for the child. Harry Potter is a skilled wizard, do not underestimate him, for he is no longer a boy. There is a reason he was made Head Auror. Nevertheless, Harry Potter will die once and for all this time. But not just Harry, _every _Potter. I will destroy them all, and thereby destroy Harry Potter completely, not only his body but his soul. His children and his wife will die. Our source at Hogwarts knows my plan.

"Enough of Potter, Greyback, report."

"Of course, my lord," said Fenrir Greyback. "Recruiting is going well, I've taken two more into our service."

"Good, werewolves are useful beasts. What of the giants?"

"Not many are left, sir. I found a group of ten, most of them are sympathetic to our cause."

"Good. Nothing stands in our way, then. Not Harry Potter, not Albus Dumbledore, not the Order of the Phoenix, nothing! The Ministry shall soon be mine, and things will return to they way they ought to be."


	10. The Mystery of Professor Sinistra

Right, we're getting there now

_**Right, we're getting there now! Soon, we will know what is inside the Obsidian Chest, around 2 more chapters, maybe, if that. Mind you, these chapters will be getting probably longer and complicated. I need 3 things to happen at once, 2 of which involve Voldemort's plan, which shall be revealed (almost) in time, 1 of which, involves another element, and afterwards, it just will all go to hell.**_

_Chapter 10: The Mystery of Professor Sinistra_

It was November now. All the trees near Hogwarts were bare; leaves littered the ground whose grass had lost its luscious green tinge and become slightly brown. The air was chilled throughout the castle and the grounds. Fall was over, and winter was fast approaching. A dull air had fallen over the castle. Students were anxious, as they hadn't had any sort of break for a while now and most of them were counting the days until the Christmas holidays. It was that tone of dullness that hung everywhere, even Harry felt it, but for a different reason.

Between Halloween and the current date, Harry had met with the Order of the Phoenix several more times at his godson's house. The Order was active, now, which was good. They had had some minor victories over Voldemort. George, their correspondent in Diagon Alley, reporting on everything from Gringotts to Knockturn Alley had managed to suppress some recruiting there. This was good, making it difficult for Voldemort to gain followers; however, it had consequentially led to something not so good.

Harry was positive Voldemort was aware that there was an organized resistance against him now, besides the Ministry's feeble attempts.

His suspicions were as good as confirmed a week ago in the form of Mr. Weasley's forced retirement. The Order was now sure that Voldemort had infiltrated the Ministry rather deeply because Mr. Weasley had been forced to retire unceremoniously with threats of Azkaban should he refuse. Basically, he was fired. The Burrow, apparently, was now being watched, according to Mrs. Weasley.

Andromeda Tonks was also under surveillance and was constantly late for meetings as she almost always had a tail whenever she went out. Luckily, no one was ever followed to Teddy Lupin's residence. It was demanded that to arrive there, everyone apparate outside the protection surrounding the place, and enter that way. Previously, the Weasleys had used the Floo Network (for the first few meetings) to enter Headquarters at a very specific time, and through illegal back channels in it, away from Ministry monitoring. They did not dare do it again, Voldemort's spies were everywhere.

From that evidence, it was almost a sure thing that Voldemort was keeping tabs on former members of the former Order. In fact, not _almost _sure, _completely_.

It was troubling to Harry, not only that the Order members were being watched, but more so, he didn't know by _whom _they were being spied on. It was either Death Eaters or the Ministry. Both were equally as problematic, but the latter was far more disturbing. Hand-in-hand with that, Harry and the Order were almost positive that Voldemort definitely had some department heads under the Imperius Curse. Along with suppressing any more recruiting Voldemort might campaign for, the Order was also quietly attempting to release those prominent figures within the Ministry from the Imperius Curse. This was difficult without being noticed, near impossible.

As a precaution, Harry had reinforced the wards around Hogwarts once more, as well as number twelve, Grimmauld Place to ensure not only his student's safety, but his family's. Right now, Lord Voldemort had a strong toehold in the Ministry of Magic. They had to work hard, and they had to work fast if they wanted to break it, and Harry could not let such worries for other people's safety distract him. He had to be _sure _they were safe, or he was sure he wouldn't be able to move fast enough.

XxX

Winter was approaching now. The trees around Hogwarts no longer bore leaves of multiple colors. They littered the grounds now, and blew hither and thither with the biting chill of the wind. With Fall's slow departure, so too departed many members of the Hogwarts Staff at inexplicable, sporadic times. Albus had noticed this, ever since after Halloween. Most of the time it was his father that was conspicuously absent from the school, this could be determined by a quick examination of the staff table during meal times. But Harry Potter was not the only one to disappear at random. Albus also noticed that Professors McGonagall, Malfoy, Longbottom, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Weasley vanished as well.

Constantly, this group of teachers popped in and out the school. Never during weekdays, and lessons, if it could be helped, though Albus had already had Transfiguration and Charms taught by Hermione when either of the professors of each class were absent. Most of the time, one of the group was left behind to cover. It was a clever scheme they had devised, whatever it was for.

Hugo, Rose, and Phil, of course, had noticed it as well; this might have been due to the fact that their parents were among the vanishing staff, as was Albus'. They spoke about it extensively, when it began to become more prominent, and together they could only assume that the disappearing staff was disappearing to plot against Voldemort. This was cemented in their minds mostly because Harry had fought Voldemort before, and it was only expected that he should do so again.

While it was interesting, if not frightening to dwell on, Albus and his friends had other problems. Divination was becoming an increasing annoyance. This was due to the fact that practically every time Albus came in contact with Professor Trelawney, she immediately predicted imminent doom for him and his family. Also, she was handing out copious amounts of homework, more than McGonagall, even. Albus didn't complain about this, however, since Rose usually smugly stated that he should have taken Arithmancy.

Divination did not compare to Astronomy, though. The main thing on Albus' mind.

Professor Sinistra had become increasingly distant, unfair, and cruel to Albus. Picking on him extensively when he answered a question incorrectly, calling upon him in class on questions no one knew the answer to, and them humiliating him when he got them wrong. Not only that, she constantly sought excuses to take points away from him (once she did so because he smudged ink on an essay that he handed in to her this had also caused him to receive a D on the essay). And, as angry as this made Albus, it also made him uneasy.

Albus had had detention with Sinistra again for losing his temper when she gave a Slytherin an O on an assignment, and him a T, when the Slytherin had copied Albus' work word for word. Sinistra had insisted it was the other way around. And ever since that detention he'd found Sinistra suspicious. He remembered when she opened that black chest again, the awful smell, the clanking of bottles of gin. Albus was determined to know what was in that box, because it smelled like something long dead. He was sure its was illegal, or at least something Sinistra could not afford to be seen. Albus' belief in that fact was cemented because she gave detention during his last detention when he asked what was in the box.

Not only that, though. Albus was also highly suspicious of exactly _what _was in those opaque gin bottles Sinistra drunk from. On more that one occasion, Sinistra had promptly left the Great Hall during mealtimes when her supply of whatever was in the bottles ran dry. Again, Albus was sure whatever she was drinking, it wasn't gin, and it was either illegal, or potentially career-crippling. He intended to find out, he didn't know how, and he didn't know when.

All he knew was that he had nearly walked smack in to Sinistra's office door, unaware in all his musings that he had arrived at his destination for a single purpose. That purpose was to serve the detention Sinistra had issued him last detention. Albus knocked lightly, but no answer issued from behind the door, though he was sure he heard her moving around in there. Without even thinking, Albus threw opened the door. Sinistra was in the room, alright. She was kneeled over her open, black chest, her hands inside it, fiddling with something.

"Er…" Albus trailed off. Sinistra started, and several things happened at once.

The professor pulled her hands free from the chest as though it were something indecent, this was followed by the sound of a metallic clang and shattering glass. In the same moment, she produced her wand and aimed it at Albus.

"_Damn _it, Potter!" she hissed, stowing her wand in her robes. She looked positively livid. "_Knock _next time, yes?!"

"Sorry, Professor, I did, but you didn't answer."

"Right!" snapped Sinistra, closing the black chest with her foot, and locking it. Albus took a whiff of the air, it still smelled horrible, but, somehow, he had gotten used to it. Or maybe the thought of what he might have just walked in upon was overriding his senses. What had Sinistra been doing? It must have been something bad, because she had been startled so thoroughly that she had drawn her wand on him.

"I didn't answer Mr. Potter," continued Sinistra. "So what made you think that you should just open the door, and bloody barge right in?!"

"I heard you… and…."

"I have a good mind to give you another weeks worth of detentions, Potter, and—" Sinistra cut herself off, glancing at the chest. She seemed to decide better of giving Albus any more detentions, however, she clearly wanted to avoid a repeat of this incident, which only she seemed to understand fully. "But, no! Instead, you're going to write a different set of lines for me."

"How many?" Albus inquired dully, sitting down before her desk without being invited. Sinistra ignored this and sat down before him.

"Three hours worth, Potter."

"I—what?! Three hours?!"

"Three hours, because I have forty foot-long essays to grade. You're going to stay here for three hours, and write lines while I grade."

"But— I—"

"What?! Homework, or something of the sort? That it, Potter? Too much homework? I'd expect so, because, you know, your essay is due next class, and if I know you, you have no idea what you're writing about. What, Potter? Do you need to concentrate? Lack of sleep effect you, yes? Good! It'll reinforce my point, and hopefully get it through your thick skull not to cross me!"

Sinistra looked positively insane as she thrust a massively long piece of parchment before him, along with a quill and ink.

"And you're fortunate I'm only having you write me lines, Potter!" Sinistra snapped. "Begin, and I swear, if you fall asleep, or question me I'll give you a month's worth of detentions."

Sinistra took a swig from one of her gin bottles, Albus hadn't even noticed it was in her hand. She then sat down, and began her grading, muttering incoherently under he breath.

That detention passed rather swiftly, except near the end when Albus felt his eyes drooping, and the pace of his writing slacking. Untrue to her threat, Sinistra did not even notice, she was only about half way done grading essays when she looked at her watch.

"Merlin's knotted beard!" she shrieked, causing Albus to jump and spill ink all over her desk. "Look at the time—" she took notice of the spilled ink, "—damn it, Potter! Clumsy little child, you are! Out with you, out now! _Scourgify!_"

Albus stood, somewhat surprised, having fully expected another detention from Sinistra after knocking over the ink. Rather than dwelling on it, and giving Sinistra the chance to change her mind, Albus hastily exited her office, and made way for the Gryffindor tower. Upon entry, he immediately headed for his dormitory, and without changing, fell on the bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.

XxX

The next day, Albus awoke at noon, and when he made his way to the Great Hall, lunch was being served. It was after taking the first bite into his food that he realized there was Quidditch practice that day, at about three o'clock. Of course, Quidditch had started, and the Gryffindors were set to match Hufflepuff immensely soon. For the first time ever, Albus was rather irritated with Quidditch, however, since he had mounds of homework to complete.

These feelings of glumness, and the volume of his homework grew throughout the week. They reach boiling point Wednesday night, when Albus had class with Sinistra again (since not _every _class was Friday). Luckily, he'd escaped with no detention. However, this did nothing to ease his mood. Once more, homework was being piled upon him, and to make things worse, James, his dear brother, had called for practice every night.

Albus was constantly exhausted, resulting in poor marks on all his homework, or else no completion of them at all. To make matters worse, tonight was Friday night, and once more, he had a double period of Astronomy, beginning at eleven o'clock. He'd had to run all the way to the Astronomy Tower after Quidditch practice, to make it there in time. Upon arrival, his heart sank. The entire class was already there. He was late.

Sinistra scoffed, standing near the black board. She took a swig from an opaque bottle near her side.

"Potter," she sneered. "You're late by a minute. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and a detention, I think."

"What?" Albus snapped incredulously. A _minute _late?!

"Yes, Potter, I think that will do. You shall have detention in my office next Saturday evening."

"But—" Albus sputtered, "I have a Quidditch match!"

"All the better, then, yes? Take a seat, Potter, now."

Albus slammed his books upon his desk and sat down. Sinistra shot a glaring look at him.

"Another twenty points from Gryffindor, careful, Potter, or I might give you another detention."

Immediately, Sinistra turned to the blackboard and began to write something, at the same time, the door burst open, and several tardy Slytherins made their way to their seats, which Albus had only just noticed were empty. Sinistra paid them no heed, anger erupted in Albus' stomach, and boiled all the way through the class.

Steaming after class, Albus, Rose, Hugo, and Phil silently made their way back into the Gryffindor common room. Their fellow classmates all headed up to bed, as it was quite late, however, neither Albus, Hugo, Rose, or Phil felt tired in the slightest. Albus' anger had reached boiling point, and as the last Gryffindor (an exhausted looking second year) climbed the stairs to the dormitories, Albus finally spoke his mind.

"I can't believe her!"

"Neither can I," said Rose. Everyone looked at her, for Rose rarely ever criticized teachers. "Well, she's been so unfair to Albus. She didn't even look at those Slytherins."

"There's something off about her," interjected Phil.

"Yeah," Albus agreed. "Last year she was as fair as anyone else…. I don't understand it, but I reckon it has something to do with all those bottles of gin she drinks, or whatever she's got hidden in that black chest of hers."

"What chest?" Rose inquired.

Albus launched into an explanation about the black chest in Sinistra's office, making it as short as possible. He, Albus, spoke to Rose, Hugo, and Phil about how the chest bore a magic lock, and Sinistra stored bottles of gin in it, as well as spare ink and quills. But, also, about the horrible stench that emanated from it.

"Odd…" said Rose when Albus had finished.

"What's odd?" Albus asked.

"What could she possibly be keeping in that chest that smells so horrible? And why _does _she drink so much gin?"

"Dunno," said Albus. "But I think there's something bad in that chest. Maybe something illegal, she nearly hexed me when I went into her office and she was digging around in the thing…. There's something in there that's messing with her mind or… something."

"Well," said Rose, "it's not likely she's going to show you, is it?"

"Probably not," Albus replied.

"She gave you detention," Hugo stated. All eyes turned to him now.

"What?" Hugo asked, as though what he said had made complete sense and there was no reason as to why they should look at him so inquiringly. "What if you looked inside the chest that detention?"

"How am I going to do that?" Albus asked, slightly irritated.

"I dunno… I suppose it would require more than a bit of luck, requires a bit more thinking," Hugo said.

"Luck…" Rose trailed off. "Oh--!" everyone jumped as she shouted this, "Albus, Felix Felicis!"

"What about it?"

"Slughorn gave you a vial of it last year! What if you used it during your detention with Sinistra and looked inside the chest? I'm sure it would prove helpful somehow, it is liquid luck after all."

"I…" Albus trailed off, having almost completely forgotten that there was indeed a tiny vial of golden liquid in his trunk upstairs, a bottle of luck. "Well… yeah, I reckon I might just do that."

"Yeah, but Rose," said Hugo, "why are you giving us advice on how to trespass on a teacher's personal property?"

"Oh, honestly," snapped Rose indignantly, "haven't I just said I thought she'd been acting weird? I suspect whatever she's drinking from those bottles of gin is illegal or something. But whatever she keeps in that chest I'll bet has to do with her behavior. Anyway, she hasn't always been like this. Last year she was completely fair, and a good teacher…."

"Well, that explains it," said Hugo tonelessly. He gave a great yawn. "Anyway, I'm going to bed, we can talk about this tomorrow."

Everyone exchanged goodnights, and they too followed Hugo up to their dormitories to sleep.

_**Ok… now, many, many things must happen in the span of 2 to 3 chapters including finding out what is inside the Obsidian Chest. This is likely going to take me a long time to plot out straight, so be patient. It's in my head, but it must be written down in an organized way. By the way, you may want to click the review button, just a thought.**_


	11. Plans and Action

Chapter 11: Plans and Action

_**Alright! Let's start branching out and getting to the craziness! Unfortunately, this chapter is not long, and I've left you with a bit of a cliffy. Something I really haven't done since the last fic, hahahaha!**_

_Chapter 11: Plans and Action_

Being late last time, Yaxley ensured he was the very first to arrive at the stone table within the cave where the next meeting would take place. He sat opposite of Voldemort, whose hood was raised over his crimson eyes. The Dark Lord might have been asleep, he was so still and silent. They waited until the rest of the Death Eaters filed in, taking their respective seats. It was less than two minutes before the table was full, and Voldemort lowered his hood.

"I call this meeting into order, now that those of us who need be are here," said the Dark Lord.

Bellatrix Lestrange's seat was conspicuously vacant.

"Yaxley, how fares your mission?" asked Voldemort.

"I have successfully put Ginger Hopkins under the Impirius Curse, my lord," Yaxley replied.

"Good, the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement is now mine, then," said Voldemort, more to himself than anyone else. "For those of you who do not know, Ginger Hopkins is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"The Ministry could easily fall any day now, my lord," Yaxley continued as Voldemort fell silent. "It will do so under the Order's nose. I doubt they will be able to find out about Hopkins until it is too late."

Voldemort smiled. "Quite true, Yaxley, quite true. The Order of the Phoenix regrouped too late to be effective against us, which is a good thing, I should say. They will crumble for it, and for carelessness. I've finally decided to question one; you'll notice our dear Bellatrix is not present with us today."

Voldemort indicated the empty seat next to him.

"This," the Dark Lord continued, "is because I sent her to retrieve an Order member, the one she's been tailing for a while now, her last remaining sibling."

Voldemort's eyes flicked to the entrance of the chamber. The Death Eaters followed suit, and several murmured excitedly as a body floated in, followed by Bellatrix, her wand raised, a vicious smile upon her face. Waving her wand, Bellatrix set the body upon the table, she flicked it again and the body went rigged, as though invisible ropes had coiled around it, crushing its arms against its sides, and its legs together. Bellatrix then took her seat, and Voldemort glanced at the thing on the table.

It was the body of a woman, who resembled Bellatrix greatly, though she had mostly gray hair now, and a kinder face that was now screwed up in agony. It looked as though she was dead, and one might have suspected it had it not been for the slow rising and falling of her chest.

"We are joined today by Andromeda Tonks," said Voldemort quietly. "She is unconscious, it would appear, I daresay Bellatrix has been having fun."

"Much, my lord!" squeaked Bellatrix.

"And what information have you extracted from her?"

"Not much of great value, she's not the secret keeper, that much is obvious. But I believe I cracked through some of the enchantments, she was able to tell me there are no useful contacts in the Ministry for the Order, but she could not say who, no matter how much I tortured her. Rest assured, she can't take anymore."

"Then the sacking of Arthur Weasley was a wise move indeed," said Voldemort. "The Ministry shall be far easier to gain control of. Is that all you were able to get from her?"

"Yes, my lord, I crave your forgiveness, I beg you—"

"That's enough," said Voldemort sharply. Bellatrix looked hurt. "It matters not, this newfound intelligence will enable us to act quickly. Wake her up, now."

"Of course, of course—_Crucio!_"

Andromeda Tonks' eyes flew open, but she could not scream, it was miracle she had opened her eyes, for she was under the full body-bind curse. Bellatrix shrieked with laughter, practically feeling the agony emanating from her sister. Voldemort, however, raised his wand and stopped Andromeda's pain

"You, Andromeda Tonks," hissed Voldemort, "shall be the first of the Order to die. Not to worry, though, others shall follow you. I am close, Andromeda, so close to achieving my goal. The Ministry shall be mine, and then I shall kill Harry Potter… and begin my quest anew. It's a pity your efforts amounted to nothing, and a pity you could not give us anymore information, I would have liked it better had your death not been so useless. At least you would not have perished in vain had you given me more…. Unfortunately…"

Voldemort raised his wand, but Bellatrix spoke before he could deliver the final curse.

"Wait, my lord. This is my sister, let me kill her, please, I beg you, my lord, there could be no higher honor than to serve you and rid the world of not only one of the Order of the Phoenix, but also, rid myself of a wretch of a sister, who married a mudblood."

Voldemort looked at Bellatrix, his expression unreadable, then said quietly, "very well, Bella, you shall have your favor. Kill her now."

Andromeda's eyes flicked wildly from the Dark Lord to his servant, under the full body-bind curse she could neither move, nor talk, nor scream or beg for mercy, as Bellatrix so craved. Alas, she must be finished quickly.

Bellatrix took aim, and smiled broadly.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

A flash of bright emerald, the whoosh of death, and Andromeda's eyes ceased to move, but stared blankly at the ceiling.

XxX

Felix Felicis might be liquid luck, but, as Rose so irritatingly (and helpfully) reminded Albus, luck could only get one so far. Originally, Albus had planned to simply take a swig of the potion, and enter detention. Rose had thrown him an expression that displayed a ridiculous amount of pity, and then chided him for being naïve. It was then she told him the aforementioned fact, luck can only get one so far. Albus had to have the _ability _to look inside the chest. Thus, Sinistra had to be distracted, and luck would then certainly prevail and keep her distracted for long enough.

Albus, had then said something to Rose: "Spoken like a true volunteer."

Reluctantly, then, Rose had agreed to serve as a distraction to Sinistra. She would also take a swig of Felix and, as luck would prevail, set Peeves off near the Astronomy Tower. Albus thought this would be a good idea, two people aided with Felix Felicis against Sinistra, she stood no chance.

It was now night, and dinner was approaching, Albus hung his head as he walked with Rose, Hugo, and Phil to the Great Hall. He did not want to face the rest of the Gryffindor team because, after all, he had detention tonight after dinner with Sinistra, and he could not play the game. Helpfully, this would not amount to nothing, so Albus' guilt was eased slightly.

Harry Potter passed his son and his friends entering the Great Hall as he exited. He could feel their eyes upon them as he headed for the Entrance Hall. Harry ignored this feeling, and made a hasty exit out of the oak front doors, down onto the long drive. He followed it to the very border of the Hogwart's Grounds, right up to the iron game. There he drew his wand, and slashed it around gracefully while muttering complicated incantations. Once satisfied, he opened the gates, then he stood still, waiting.

Seconds later, three people apparated before him: McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione.

"You got my owl, then?" said McGonagall.

"Yes," said Harry, as that was his reason for being out there. McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione had just returned from a meeting with the Order, Neville, Malfoy, and Harry himself had stayed behind.

"Well, then, quickly to the grounds, we can talk there."

McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione proceeded through the open gates, and together they sealed them with all the proper wards and enchantments Harry had just undone. Satisfied, they began to walk toward the castle, and Harry spoke first.

"So, what's the full story, then?" he asked no one in particular.

"As best as we can guess," began Hermione immediately, "Andromeda's tail picked her up en route to the meeting. When we she didn't come for an hour after it began, Ron and I went to her house. It was just empty, no signs of struggle, nothing."

"What else?" asked Harry.

"Well, obviously we've got some people looking in to it, but I doubt we'll get that far," said McGonagall grimly. "Right now, I say we should focus on Arthur Weasley."

"Yeah," agreed Ron, "my dad is still being watched. He's sure it's an Auror, we suspect a Death Eater was tailing Andromeda Tonks. But, still…."

"It's disturbing that an Auror is trailing your dad," said Harry. "Voldemort must be influencing them, even controlling them, he might have the entire office under his control. Besierwan is probably under the Imperius Curse."

"Unfortunately, our reach in the Ministry isn't lengthy," said Hermione gravely.

"Someone needs to get Mr. and Mrs. Weasley out of the Burrow," said Harry.

"I'll do it," Ron stated. "I'm going to go back to Grimmauld Place, they might still be there, we left the meeting a bit early."

"Be careful," said Hermione as he turned back toward the gates.

"Always am," said Ron.

"Anyway," Harry interjected, "we need to get to dinner now, there's nothing we can do for Andromeda at the moment, not if Voldemort has her…. She's…."

Harry didn't speak what they all assumed.

"We should go to dinner, and then the Quidditch match," Harry finished.

"Too bad that Albus will not be playing," said Professor McGonagall rather seriously.

"Why's that?" asked Harry, curious.

"I'm not sure, but he'll be having detention with Professor Sinistra tonight, she's not a real Quidditch person anyway. I'm not sure about the replacement seeker James has found…."

XxX

Even though he could see the match commencing as he strode past the windows on his way to detention, Albus felt no guilt. In fact, he felt open… open to any and all possibilities. He could simply walk down to the Pitch right now, if he wanted, hop on any broom, and find the snitch within minutes. It somehow didn't seem so important. He felt optimistic, and even the thought of Sinistra could not mar the feeling, though he did have some doubt as to whether he'd taken enough lucky potion when he'd left the common room. Felix Felicis, however, seemed to be telling him not to worry about it.

Rose walked near him, turning a corner as he headed toward the stairs which led to the classroom in the Astronomy Tower. She would be setting off a distraction in precisely seven minutes.

Ridiculously optimistic, Albus entered Sinistra's office. She sat at her desk, writing on some piece of parchment and didn't even look up at him.

"Good evening, Professor," said Albus politely.

"It is," snapped Sinistra. "Sit, you're going to be writing lines today, again, and afterwards you're going to polish the desks, and chairs."

"Yes, Professor," said Albus, sitting down before her. She absentmindedly slipped him a blank stretch of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle. Felix told him to begin writing. He did so, writing his instructed lines for several minutes until a loud crash sounded from somewhere below. Sinistra looked up from her work.

"What was that?" she muttered to herself, standing up.

Another loud crash sounded, following by a shriek of laughter that could only come from Peeves. Albus resisted the urge to smile.

"Damn poltergeist again!" hissed Sinistra, making her way out. She turned to Albus before leaving. "Keep up with those lines, I want to see you sitting right there when I get back!"

"Yes, Professor," said Albus as she slammed the door behind her.

Felix told him it was safe a few moments later, he stood quickly, and went around to Sinistra's side of the desk. An odd feeling crept over him, and he satisfied his urge to look in the top right door, it was empty, save for a black string that seemed to run to the edge of the drawer, and into the bottom of it. Without any reason besides Felix telling him to, Albus seized it, and pulled. The entire bottom of the drawer popped up, and underneath it lay the ever-changing magical key.

Albus picked it up, moved away from the desk, and stopped at the chest. Ducking, he inserted the key in the lock and turned. Pausing for a moment in his triumph which had come so very simply, Albus opened the black chest. It was made of stone, he noticed, black stone, obsidian.

Once the lid was fully open, Albus peered in. The smell immediately hit him, and what he saw drove all of Felix from his mind and chilled his very bone marrow.


	12. The Obsidian Chest

And now, here we go, the moment you've all been waiting

_**And now, here we go, the moment you've all been waiting. Get ready for extremely messy, disorganized story telling! Soon, nobody is going to know what the hell is going on anywhere except for Voldemort, since he's not our main character, we wont know either! Anyway, without further useless preamble, I present to you the contents of the Obsidian Chest.**_

_Chapter 12: The Obsidian Chest_

Never could Albus have guessed. Around the perimeter, toward the top of the chest, was a shelf, containing ink, quills, and empty gin bottles, but never, ever could Albus have guessed that this was merely a façade for something far more sinister, laying at the bottom of the chest, which was surprisingly deep. In fact, Albus could easily have climbed into the thing, and comfortably shut himself in, but he would not dare, ever! For the horrible, rotting, stinking thing that occupied the bottom of the magical chest. It was, for all its rotted flesh, the body of Aurora Sinistra. Clearly dead, and missing chunks of black hair here and there.

Next to her lay a pair of silver shears, obviously used to cut the hair, and at her feet lay a cauldron full of a muddy substance, vials of the same liquid around it. Several empty bottles of gin were scattered among them. Sinistra… or, whoever the living woman was, had obviously been drinking the mud-like liquid out of the gin bottles. Albus could not think, his mind could not even begin to rationalize _why _Aurora Sinistra would be dead in her own black chest when she'd just left the room a few minutes earlier.

How was the possible?!

Albus had expected to find something that would get Sinistra into trouble, perhaps something illegal, but never _this_. And, if Sinistra was dead in the chest, then the Sinistra whose chest he was looking into wasn't really Sinistra, was she? Albus didn't know, he couldn't think, his mind had drawn a complete blank, and Felix was screaming at him. Screaming something incoherent that he could not even begin to listen to.

And then… the sound of the door opening snapped Albus back into reality, he hastily stood up from his crouched position, and turned to face the woman-who-was-not-Sinistra.

"So…" hissed the fake Sinistra. "Little Potter's found out what's inside my chest."

"Who are you?" was all Albus could think to ask in response.

"Not Professor Sinistra, obviously, I serve the Dark Lord. He was going have me take you to him later, along with your siblings, but we can't wait for that, now, can we?"

The fake Sinistra raised her wand, and Felix told Albus he must stay put and not move. As the imposter opened her mouth to shout some incantation, Peeves, the poltergeist, immediately burst in to the room, and begin to hurl ink bottles around the place. Albus ran for it, as the false Sinistra was distracted.

He bolted down the steps toward the corridor leading away from the Astronomy Tower. His initial instinct was Rose. Where had she gone? She'd taken Felix Felicis, she could not be hurt, she couldn't. But if the imposter was a Death Eater…. It was too horrid to think about, and even more terrible to look upon, for there she was, Rose. She lay absurdly sprawled in the middle of the corridor, unmoving. Her eyes were closed. Ignoring Felix's protests, Albus kneeled beside her and gave her a rough, quivery shake.

"Rose," he breathed.

She did not respond.

"ROSE!" he bellowed, his voice sounded distant, and Felix was roaring at him to run, run like hell! It was giving him a migraine! He must ignore it, he must make sure Rose was okay. She couldn't be dead.

Then logic came to him as his initial shock wore down ever so slightly. He checked for a pulse….

There was a pulse.

It was strong, or at least he thought it was. This was more muggle practice than anything, and he wasn't—

"_Incarcerous!"_

Albus ducked as a snarl of twisting ropes flew over him. He drew his wand, and pointed it toward the end of the corridor he had come from. Sinistra's imposter was charging madly at him.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Albus cried, that particular spell being the first to come to his mind.

Sinistra's imposter was too slow to block it, she looked livid, and was bellowing incoherently with fury. Her wand escaped her grasp, and flew backward several feet. As she bellowed a slew of nasty curses, Albus tore off again, leaving Rose behind. She would not die, Albus was sure of it, the imposter was too distracted with him.

He ran through the castle with a good head start. Felix told him he must keep going, all the way to the Entrance Hall, he must not stop. But its effects were wearing away, he could feel them slipping.

Felix's warnings were dying. They were feeble and unintelligible. Once he nearly slipped on some spilled water near a flight of stairs. To make things worse, the imposter was gaining on him. As he turned a corner a spell sent chunks of the wall flying behind him. Albus ran, coming to the stairs in the Entrance Hall. He fumbled down them, jumping the last few.

The oak front doors were slightly ajar. Albus pushed them open, and felt the rush of chilly evening air hit his face, then the feel of mud and grass, and pain, his entire face in pain. He could not move his legs. He was trapped. It took him a moment to realize what had happened as he rolled over, Sinistra had hit him with a leg-locker curse, and he had fallen face first into the ground.

He saw her now, but her figure was oddly distorting as she exited the castle. She was becoming more squat and shorter; she had a rather hunched back. A curious giggle escaped her lips as she approached him there, snatching his wand from the ground where it had fallen, barely out of reach.

It took Albus a moment, but he recognized her. She was one of the Death Eater escapees from last year that had broken out from Azkaban with the help of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her name, he thought, was Alecto Carrow.

"Aw, the ickle Potter offspring can't move his ickle legs!" she cooed in a horrible voice.

"You're Carrow, Alecto C—"

"That's Professor Carrow to you, Potter! You'll be coming with me, it'll be oh so fun!"

Albus felt his body rise into the air on its own accord. Alecto was levitating him, and then, he began to move, fast, the Death Eater bobbing at his side, panting slightly.

"You got slapped with a bad name, ickle Potter, very bad. Dumby, that's who he was, saw Snape kill him myself, didn't I, saw him indeed. 'Course, Snape died…." Alecto said through short gasps of breath. "You've got his name! Albus Dumbledore's name, how—"

A deafening cheer sounded from the Quidditch Pitch. Albus halted his flight as Alecto paused for a moment. People were exiting the stands, the game was over! Already he could see robed figures headed toward the castle, and, without thinking he cried into the night,

"HELP ME! DEATH EATER!"

"Damn it, whelp, shut up!"

He could not speak again, and once more he was moving through the air. But his ability to hear was not diminished.

"Oi!" someone yelled. "Death Eater! Merlin, is that a student?! STOP HER!"

XxX

McGonagall noticed it first, being the only staff around in the sea of students; she tore off toward the Death Eater and levitating student with a surprising speed. They were nearing the gates. She didn't dare fire a spell, for fear of hitting the student. He, or at least it looked like a boy, was flying at the running Death Eater's side, and (it looked like a woman) she was waving her wand madly at the gates. Cracks as loud as gunshots rang through the air.

McGonagall's breath caught, she was too late.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _bellowed the Death Eater, but the curse did not kill anyone. Instead, it smashed right through the gates, and set the surrounding grass on fire.

From her voice, McGonagall suspected it was Alecto Carrow, after all, she had been forced to work with her for a year. And Alecto Carrow had gotten the better of McGonagall. The Death Eater exited the grounds with the student, and both disappeared into nothingness just as McGonagall reached the drive, the broken gate yards away. She stood there for a moment, horrified, because she had caught a glimpse of the boy Alecto was taking with her.

Albus Severus Potter.

XxX

To make it even worse, the Ministry was on its way.

Harry felt ill. He had twice kneeled down over the empty pensieve (for lack of a better place) as he felt he would be sick. But nothing came of it. His son, Albus, had been taken, they were sure of it now. It had taken an hour to be positive. McGonagall had informed him of Albus' kidnapper, it was Alecto Carrow.

Aurora Sinistra had also been discovered missing. When Slughorn had been sent to search her office, he returned with grim news. She was dead at the bottom of an open chest made of obsidian, and there was polyjuice potion in it as well. Harry knew now why Alecto Carrow had been sent to finish off the witness to the murder in Hogsmeade. And he was sure he'd no longer have rat problems. It was fitting, in a way, that Alecto Carrow should have learned to become an animagus, and that her form was that of a rat.

In any case, she'd been impersonating Sinistra. For how long, Harry did not know. He assumed it must have been since the start of term in September. How could he have been so stupid? Avery Smith had been a drinker, and that addiction had gotten him lured into a death trap last year. Sinistra, or, rather, her imposter, had gulped down so many bottles of gin. Harry should have said something…. It obviously had not been gin.

"_The vile key…."_

Trelawney's prediction!

It had not been a 'vile' key, but a _vial _key. Vials of polyjuice. And she'd been right, if it had been found, nothing would have been lost, but it "_must be found before the traitor's final proclamation or…_".

Or else _all _would be lost, not just Albus. But what was the traitor's final proclamation? Was it Alecto Carrow or was it—

The door to Harry's office burst open, and Hermione entered, looking extremely harassed.

"Hermione!" Harry blurted in surprise.

"Harry, oh! We've gotten word. The Order! Cho heard it, she told us as—"

"What is it, Hermione? Just tell me, what's happened?"

"Alonzo Besierwan is calling for a huge policy change today. Not only that, but he's announced that all members of the Order of the Phoenix are fugitives of wizarding law!"

Here was the traitor's proclamation, apparently his final one…. Besierwan, Harry had not liked him in the least.

"This is bad," said Harry. "We need to leave Hogwarts immediately."

"I know, I came to tell you—Ron has already left, he took Rose—she's okay, Madam Pomfrey patched her up—and Hugo, Malfoy's got Scorpius, Neville is going with Phil now—"

"I've got to get Lily and James!" Harry exclaimed, ignoring the pain that stung him because he was unable to say "Albus" in addition.

"Don't worry, McGonagall has already taken them. She was the first to leave. I've told Hagrid and Slughorn to say they have no idea where we are, and they didn't even know we were gone. Of course, we'll be meeting at Headquarters, but Harry, I'm sure the Ministry is on their way now! We need to leave, and we've got no choice but to apparate."

"I know, Hermione, I know, let's move now."

Without another word, both of them set off down the spiraling staircase from Harry's office. The stone gargoyle leapt back in place as they set off at a run down the corridor, probably sealing Harry's office until he should return. As they reached the Grand Staircase, and began a their descent, Harry asked a question that had just entered his mind,

"What about Ginny?"

He couldn't believe he'd forgotten.

"The Order has sent word," Hermione replied.

Harry simply nodded, and they kept on, passing the door to the third floor corridor which burst open. Trelawney nearly ran into them as she exited.

"Dear, me, Headmaster!" Trelawney cried hysterically. "The indignity!"

"Professor, I really don't have time," Harry snapped.

"I should think not! Two Death Eaters popped out of my fire place! They said there were more of them in others; they've come looking for you!"

"Where are they now?!"

"I don't know, they simply left, and broke a half dozen of my seeing stones as well, the—"

"They're in the castle!" Harry exclaimed more to himself.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, drawing her wand.

Harry instinctively drew his as well. Two Death Eaters had entered the place, a staircase below them. Curses erupted from the ends of their wands.

"Go back through the door!" Harry shouted to Trelawney as he parried a navy blue jet of light, sending a streak of crimson at the Death Eater who had shot it.

Trelawney complied immediately as Hermione sent a particularly strong stunner at one of the Death Eaters. The robed figure was forced to duck, and Harry took the opening presented.

"_STUPEFY!" _he bellowed.

The stunner hit the Death Eater square in the face. He was knocked backward, and tumbled loudly down a staircase behind him which had just begun to move, and now let to a chasm of nothingness. The Death Eater fell into it, and Harry was sure he would have died.

He turned his wand on the other, but Hermione somehow transfigured him into a snail, which Harry found rather difficult in the middle of a duel. It wasn't hard to change inanimate object, but human enemies were quite tricky.

"Good job," said Harry before he could help himself.

Hermione just nodded, and, without the exchange of words, they continued forward.

More Death Eaters would be in the school, and obviously, Voldemort had a huge degree of control over the Ministry. It was his now, Harry was sure. If all of Trelawney's prediction was true, Besierwan was the traitor, and he was the Minister at least in de jure…. Voldemort was the de facto Minister now.

Regardless of what was and wasn't in the Ministry, Death Eaters were in the castle. Fleetingly, Harry thought of his students, and how so many of them could be hurt. But the Death Eaters were out to capture, or perhaps kill him, though he doubted the latter. Voldemort had always wanted to kill Harry himself, why in the world should this time be any different? It obviously wasn't. Albus was kidnapped. Voldemort probably expected Harry to escape to some secluded location, which Harry fully intended to do at the moment. And then the Dark Lord would present Albus as a bargaining chip for Harry's own life. This was certain, it was how Voldemort would operate, because it was exactly what Harry would do.

As Harry and Hermione sprinted onto the landing before the steps leading down to the Entrance Hall, an incoherent growl of triumph sounded below them. Of course, two Death Eaters had been left to guard the main exit, and Harry recognized them both. One was Fenrir Greyback, the other was Amycus Carrow.

"CARROW!" Harry bellowed, the notion of who his enemy was hitting him like a hard slap in the face. For it was Amycus Carrow's sister who took Albus.

"Ah, Potter and the Granger girl," growled Fenrir Greyback. "I remember you, pretty little thing, you were. So juicy and sweet. I prefer the taste of children, but, my dear, I'm sure I can make an exception. I never leave my food unfinished."

Hermione responded by sending a flash of white light toward Greyback which the Death Eater parried and retorted with, no doubt, a nasty curse of his own.

But Harry couldn't be sure, for he flew down the stairs toward Amycus, while Greyback maneuvered his way around the Entrance Hall, casting curse after curse at Hermione, and repelling those she sent at him.

Harry reached Amycus, deflecting a rather difficult curse that was almost too powerful to bat away, it nicked him on the arm, tearing a gash in his robes and causing the skin beneath to burn as though it were on fire. Harry's anger exploded. He responded with the darkest, most painful thing that came to his mind.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!" _

Amycus barely dodged, and the curse cut a deep gash into the stone wall behind him. The Death Eater sniggered, and flourished his wand ungracefully.

"Potter, Potter," he hissed. "You learned that from Snape, eh? A traitor, wasn't he. I knew it, I did. He gave you lessons in magic, yeah?"

"No," Harry retorted. "I learned it from a book, and from experience. Want to see some more? Being an Auror, you pick up a few things."

"Is that right, Potter? Is that right, why don't you show me?"

"As you wish."

Harry sent the most effective, nastiest, and powerful nonverbal curse he had in his arsenal. A plume of brilliant white fire erupted from the tip of his wand, rushing to engulf Amycus who, for the first time since the duel began, looked frightened. The Death Eater shot water feebly from his wand to counter the flame, but that merely seemed to feed it.

Finally, he had no choice but to dive out of the way. Harry sent another curse at him,

"_IMPENDIMENTA!"_

But, horribly, it missed. Amycus snickered.

"Potter, I expect better aim from your _son_!" the Death Eater taunted.

The look on Harry's face was enough to convince Amycus that what he said was wrong, indeed.

Both combatants aimed their wands, and both bellowed the same curse:

"_CRUCIO!"_

But Harry's, fueled not only with the desire to harm Amycus brutally, but also with a rage, as hot as the white fire, was far more powerful. It shattered Amycus' feeble curse, and hit its target dead on. The Death Eater screamed so loudly, Harry felt his glasses might shatter.

As the Death Eater screamed and convulsed upon the floor, Harry looked to Hermione and Greyback who were both locked in combat. However, Harry was presented with a clear target. He took the chance he had.

"_STUPEFY!"_

His stunner hit Greyback square in the chest. The Death Eater gave a wolfish howl of pain, and fell the ground. Hermione gasped.

"Harry!" she cried.

But Harry had turned to Amycus.

"WHERE'S MY SON?!" he roared in fury.

"No, Harry," Hermione pleaded. "We have to go!"

"NEVER!" cried Amycus. "HE'LL DIE, POTTER! DIE! BELLATRIX WILL DO IT! THE DARK LORD LOVES HOW SHE TORTURES BEFORE—"

"WHERE IS HE?!" Harry screamed again.

"Harry, no! The Cruciatus Curse—take it off him! You're better than that! Harry—oh, hurry, we've got to leave!"

'_You're better than that!'_

Those words affected Harry more than Amycus' about his son, and they elicited a completely different reaction. He _was _better than that. He was.

Harry pointed his wand at the gasping, convulsing Amycus.

"_Incarcerous!" _he called. Ropes immediately bound the Death Eater. Then Harry said, _"Crucio!"_ and Amycus was released. He gulped in a huge breath of air, as though he had been underwater for a very long time.

Hermione seized Harry by the arm, and pulled him out of the hall, onto the grounds. Together they ran, their path unhindered by any more Death Eaters. They were very close to the broken gate when a voice rang through the night.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

The Killing Curse swept across the grounds, Harry and Hermione turned to see the caster, Bellatrix Lestrange. The jet of green swooped low, heading straight for Hermione.

Harry waved his wand, and Hermione was pushed out of the way. The Killing Curse hit the ground, and it exploded in a bright orange cloud. Harry immediately swiped his wand through the air, aiming it at Bellatrix.

"_STUPEFY!" _he roared.

He didn't wait to see it the stunner made contact. Harry, this time, seized Hermione, pulled her to her feet, and together they ran through the archway that had once housed the gate. Harry spun on the spot, grabbed Hermione's arm, and they both disapparated.


	13. Schemes

_**Uh…. Yeah. There's no excuse for my delay in updating. I doubt anyone will be reading this but if I must discontinue this thing, at least I should put up everything I got. We'll see if I get another chapter up.**_

_Chapter 13: Schemes_

Out of breath, Harry and Hermione apparated fifty yards away from a rather small homestead which stood on a hill to the south, overlooking the English channel. As though it were the pinnacle of all desire, both the wizard and witch tore toward the house. They did not stop or slow their running until reaching the door, on which, Harry tapped his wand several times. The clicking of locks disengaging could be heard, and the familiar feeling of magical wards lowering overcame Harry and Hermione, as they were now attuned to such things. Dumbledore had once spoken to Harry a long time ago about the lingering effects of magic, and how a witch or wizard might be able to "trace" them. It had been several years after before Harry had understood what the late headmaster meant.

After an eternity, the door swung open, revealing a welcoming hallway that stretched on farther than the house did, another product of magic. Harry and Hermione quickly entered, shut the door behind them, and engaged the numerous locks. The enchantments strengthened themselves.

When they turned around, the hall was crammed with what seemed to be the entire Order of the Phoenix. Instantly, voices began to speak, blending with one another into a loud, indistinguishable roar. Harry attempted to answer Ginny, but his voice broke, and was lost.

"WILL YOU ALL _SHUT UP_?!"

Harry was surprised to hear the words come from Hermione's mouth. All eyes turned to her for a long moment, and no sound was made.

"Right," said Harry. "First off, before I can say anything, I need to know what's happened at the Ministry. Someone—Cho? Seamus?"

"I honestly can't tell you, Harry," said Seamus loudly. "I left as quickly as me legs could carry me when Besierwan announced the Order of the Phoenix were now enemies of the Ministry. They were going on about suspected members, didn't stay long enough for them to say my name."

"I don't know either, Harry," Cho interjected. "I left as quickly as I could, too. But I think we can assume that… Voldemort is now in control of the Ministry."

"Damn it!" Harry hissed, his face screwing up as he thought of… what had happened. "I'm not sure if all of you know, but Albus has been taken by Voldemort."

An angry murmur spread throughout the hall. Harry did not see Ginny, she had not yet arrived….

"Voldemort has him, so he'll try to use him against me. I'm betting he'll use Albus as… bait of some kind. We need to find him before he can do that."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said George Weasley. "What can we do?"

"We screwed up badly," said Harry bluntly. "We reformed the Order to stop Voldemort, and now he's taken control again. Now my son's been kidnapped…. We can't allow Voldemort to continue one, and conquer the Wizarding World like he wants to. Not after so many people sacrificed their lives when he tried last, not after Dumbledore, and Lupin, and Tonks, Sirius, Fred… and Dobby… and my mum, and my dad, and Mad Eye…. And not after the people who died this time, not after Dean, or Avery Smith, or Kingsley…. We cant let Voldemort win, and we cant' let Albus become his next victim."

"We're with you Harry," said Hermione.

"Yeah, mate, we're with you, always," Ron added.

A burst of agreements erupted from everyone in the room, and Harry nodded. When he spoke again they all fell silent.

"We need to find Voldemort, we need to find where he's hiding. To do that, we need to find a Death Eater and feed it Veritaserum, that's the only way I can think to do it…. I mean, we don't have enough time to poke around through all the hiding places in Britain, or keep watch at his old haunts."

"Indeed, 'Arry," said Fleur, who had lost some of her accent in the past few years. "I agree; zat is the only way."

"Shouldn't be all that hard, either," Mr. Weasley put in, "there are Death Eaters everywhere."

"I know," said Harry. "But, before we can do anything, we need to wait for word from Hogwarts. I'm sure someone will send something."

XxX

Two figures, clad in long robes, stood off in a small crevice of the long, rocky tunnel. They fidgeted uneasily, exchanging trouble glances beneath their hoods. In the large chamber to their left, they heard nothing. That must have meant Lord Voldemort had found no fault in Alecto's handling of the situation at Hogwarts. She'd captured the boy after all. But the two who stood outside of the Dark Lord's chamber had accomplished next to nothing. In fact, Potter and the Granger girl had escaped their grasp. They'd been specifically instructed to detain any staff members who were also of the Order.

After about a half hour—though, rest assured, it felt like an eternity—of waiting, Alecto exited Lord Voldemort's chamber. An emerald, source-less light that illuminated the cave glowed brightly on her pale face which sported a rather smug grin. She looked jeeringly at the figure on the left who snarled, and then rather empathetically to the one on the right who gulped.

"The Dark Lord wishes to speak with the two of you," she said. "Don't keep him waiting."

"Bitch," snarled Fenrir Greyback, the Death Eater on the left.

"I did my job, you filthy werewolf," Alecto sneered. "Best not keep the Dark Lord waiting, otherwise he'll probably punish you worse."

Greyback growled again, and then stormed into the Dark Lord's chamber. Amycus Carrow followed, exchanging one last glance with his sister, he too entered the chamber.

Inside, the Lord Voldemort stood with his back turned to the two Death Eaters. He was staring at the emerald green fire in the center of the room. Albus Potter was bound with a coat of rope to a stalagmite nearby. He seemed to be unconscious.

Lucky him, Greyback thought, wishing that he too was unconscious. Maybe he wouldn't feel the full force of Voldemort's inevitable punishment then.

"Amycus, Fenrir," said Voldemort without turning to face them. "You failed to act upon my orders. I do not have one single member of the Order of the Phoenix in my custody. You would think that with nearly half of the Hogwarts staff being members of the Order that you could have managed to detain at least one. Of course that was asking too much."

The Dark Lord spun to face the failures, his features placid… but he must be furious.

"Under normal circumstances…."

Voldemort flicked his wand in Amycus' direction. A jet of green light shot from the tip, sailing straight past the cringing Death Eater's ear and impacting the wall of the cave with an explosion.

"Under normal circumstances," continued the Dark Lord, "that would have hit you. However, in your blunder Amycus, and yours, Greyback, you unwittingly provided me with _something_ useful."

Greyback and Amycus exchanged glances.

Voldemort broke out into a short chorus of high, cold laughter and then abruptly stopped.

"Why, you routed nearly half of the Hogwarts Staff. Thanks to that, I can install my own teachers there. For that, I will not kill either of you."

"Thank you," said Amycus, falling to his knees. "You are merciful, milord, very merciful."

"Actually, I'm not," said Voldemort.

Before either Death Eater could react, their master raised his wand and bellowed _"Crucio!" _two times. Amycus and Greyback both hit the floor, screaming and withering in pain.

"Should either of you fail me again," said Voldemort over the peals of agony, "both of you shall pay quite dearly. For example, if I were to ask you to fetch me a glass of water filled to the brim, and you brought be a glass of water filled a mere hair's width away from said brim, I would kill you. Do I make myself clear?"

He was answered with incoherent screams.

"Thankfully Alecto brought me my bait. I know just how to use him as well. Yes…. Alright, get out."

Voldemort flourished his wand lazily. Amycus and Greyback leapt to their feet, bowed, and walked out as fast as possible.

"Bella," said Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrage emerged immediately from the shadows near where Albus was bound. She strode to the Dark Lord's side with a smile on her face.

"Yes my great and terrible Lord?"

"Fetch me Dolohov."

_**A/N: Okay, so originally this was going to be longer, but I have to post SOMETHING to see if I get any response at all, which I don't deserve. I can't believe I actually let this go for so long….**_


	14. In Shadows

_**A/N: Okay, for those of you who are still reading—thanks—I think I need to give you a summary of the events that have transpired because it's been so long since I updated.**_

_**So, this is what went down: Harry became Headmaster at Hogwarts, obviously, in the last story, and his son, Albus, was just kidnapped by Alecto Carrow who was pretending to be Aurora Sinistra by the use of Polyjuice Potion which she stored in her Obsidian Chest. Albus discovered this and was kidnapped by and taken to Lord Voldemort. Then, the Ministry, led by new Minister Alonzo Besierwan, shifted its policy change and ordered all suspected members of the Order of the Phoenix arrested. Mere hours after Albus was taken, Death Eaters entered Hogwarts and chased down Harry and Hermione, the only remaining members in the Order at Hogwarts after the others fled to Teddy Lupin's residence.**_

_**And now Harry is planning to break back in to Hogwarts to capture himself a Death Eater to interrogate. He will use this information to discover where Albus is, then plan a rescue mission….**_

_Chapter 14: In Shadows_

It was dawn, but Harry had already been awake for a long time. He stood by the window of the room he'd taken at Teddy Lupin's seaside home, gazing out at the bleak water. The morning was dreary. A washed-out sun rose glumly in a clouded sky over the gray English Channel. It was gloomy in an intangible sort of way. Harry ran his fingers through his thick, messy dark hair and bit down hard as another wave of pain assaulted him. He clenched his fist and banged it harder than he'd meant to on the window sill. It stung a little. But it was nothing compared to the gaping hole in his chest.

He'd gotten no sleep last night.

Albus was with Voldemort somewhere. His youngest son had been captured by the Dark Lord and who knew what he was suffering through? It had been agony, lying in wake, doing nothing. But today that would change. Today they'd do something… maybe. The plans had been finalized. Select members of the Order were going back to Hogwarts, and they were going to capture a Death Eater. They were going to find out where Albus had been taken.

It was foolhardy and reckless. Any number of things could go wrong. Harry and the Order were working with very little intelligence. For all they knew, Voldemort had his entire band of Death Eaters stationed in Hogwarts. All of them; Bellatrix, Greyback, Amycus, Alecto, Yaxley, Macnair—the dangerous ones—probably a lot more the Order had no knowledge of too.

Nevertheless they were going. They were merely waiting for word that the remainder of the staff was safe, and perhaps how dangerous the situation there was. Obviously they needed to know, and they would not want to put students at risk which was part of the reason they'd decided to go at night. Hopefully tonight.

Harry couldn't take another sleepless night like last night.

He exhaled deeply.

Then he suddenly felt very warm; hopeful, even. It was as though he was seventeen again, and it was only hours after Voldemort's downfall at his hands. It was like everything was guaranteed to be alright again. It reminded him of how it felt to be in the presence of a Dementor, only opposite. Like an anti-Dementor…. A Patronus!

Harry spun to face a large, transparent, silvery-smoky walrus.

"Hogwarts is well," it said in Slughorn's booming voice. "Death Eaters are in the castle. Students are safe. Be careful."

With that it flickered and disappeared in a puff of silver mist. Harry suddenly felt very cold.

But then a rush of something—exhilaration?—hit him. That was as good as they were going to get from someone inside Hogwarts. They could leave now. They could enact their plan tonight!

Harry tore out of his room, sprinting as quietly as possible down the hall. He grabbed a door handle on the left, and threw it open to find Ron and Hermione's empty bed.

That was odd.

A fleeting touch of panic gripped him which abruptly faded as he entered the kitchen downstairs to find several people sipping morning tea. Ron and Hermione were among them.

"Oh, Potter," said McGonagall in her tartan nightgown, "I saw the Patronus. Professor Slughorn has sent word?"

"Yeah," said Harry with the hint of a smile. "Everyone's safe. There are Death Eaters in the castle."

"Obviously," interjected Hermione. "That's to be expected."

"But that means we ought to do it tonight," said Ron.

"Tonight?" echoed Neville. "Why tonight?"

"Because, Longbottom," sneered Malfoy. "It's much harder to be spotted in the dark, and we'd like to avoid any student causalities."

"Oh, yeah, of course," mumbled Neville.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy," Ron snapped. "It's barely past six o'clock, Neville just hasn't had enough tea with sugar."

"Right," said Neville. "I'm nothing without my tea."

"Will you all just shut up?" Hermione hissed.

But they were all smiling, however lightly; even Harry… even _Malfoy_.

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry.

"Sure, Harry."

"Right, so we all know the plan?" asked Harry.

"Of course, Potter," Malfoy returned. "We spent till one in the morning coming up with it."

"As though you got any sleep," snapped Hermione a bit crossly.

"I didn't," agreed Malfoy. "But we could have come up with something as simple a bit faster."

"Stop bickering you two," McGonagall intervened. "Honestly, you are two grown people. Teachers, in fact! Please, try to stop acting like you're students again. Goodness knows you all gave me so much grief, especially in your first year."

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione.

"Stop selling the illusion, Hermione!" McGonagall said exasperatedly.

"Shut _up_ Hermione and _Minerva_," Harry interjected, selling the _illusion_ and putting a stopper on the bickering once and for all. "Now, even though we know the plan, we must split in to two groups anyway. One is going to go search the first floor--likely the Transfiguration classroom since it's right there—to find a Death Eater and stun them. The other is going have to go down into the dungeons and break into Slughorn's store to get some Veritaserum. All of you _can _perform disillusionment charms, can't you? That's something we forgot to go over now that I think on it."

"I can't," Neville said through the mumbling chorus of yes's. "Never actually learned how."

"Are you serious, Longbottom? Isn't that seventh year magic these days? _I _wasn't even in Hogwarts my seventh—"

"I was getting tortured by the Carrows," snapped Neville angrily.

"Indeed," said McGonagall tartly. "However, we do not have the time to instruct you, Neville. Even for a fully capable wizard such as yourself, it could take several days to advance after learning the theory."

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "You can use my invisibility cloak, Neville."

"Right," said Hermione. "You haven't used it in a long time, Harry."

"Will it still work?" asked Malfoy. "Don't cloaks like that lose their power over time?"

"Not that cloak," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"Long story. Anyway, we need to decide who's doing what. Any volunteers to get the Veritaserum?"

XxX

At dusk—long before, actually—a decision had been made as to who the two groups would consist of. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would break in to Slughorn's stores and steal the Veritaserum while McGonagall, Malfoy, and Neville would find a suitable Death Eater. It had been decided they would search the Transifiguration classroom since a Death Eater would almost certainly be occupying the office adjacent to it. McGonagall had bewitched her own office to seal itself in the event of forced absence.

The entire Order stood out in Teddy Lupin's yard to see the two groups off as they strode across the vast lawn, heading for a spot outside the enchantments protecting the place so they could not Apparate. As they reached their desired destination Harry spun to face them all. He waved reassuringly at his remaining children, James and Lily, and his wife, Ginny, who had arrived. He was going to get Albus back. Nothing would stop that.

Everyone waved back and Harry turned to face McGonagall, Malfoy, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. They were all forming a circle.

"On three, then," said Harry, "we Apparate to the Shrieking Shack. One… two… three."

They spun on the spot.

Harry felt the familiar feeling of being forced through a narrow tube. He really hated Appararition. Soon, however, his empty lungs filled with the cool night air. Suddenly, the Shrieking Shack filled his line of vision, and several light _pops _sounded in his ears. Everyone had arrived safely, they all drew their wands and glanced around.

Nothing.

No enemies to speak of.

Harry moved first, silently.

He strode to the door of the Shack, and waved his wands. It flew open and banged as it with the wall.

There, in the entrance area, on two separate chairs sat hooded Death Eaters. Instantly they stood to their feat. One managed to utter something that sounded like the beginning of the Killing Curse before he was hit in the chest by three Stunners. The other was taken down successively with three more.

They might have been dead, but Harry didn't really care.

He led everyone into the Shack, wary of more Death Eaters. The place was empty, though. They encountered no resistance on the way to the tunnel that led to the Hogwarts grounds. It would definitely be a tight fit through. He allowed everyone else to go first, before following himself.

After he vanished in the tunnel, somewhere in the shadows of the house a woman with wild gray and black hair smirked. Then she Apparated.

_**Okay, this was what was supposed to be in the rest of the 13**__**th**__** chapter, but…. Well, I thought I would not add any more on to it since it leaves you with a bit of a cliffy. Thanks again to those who are still reading. I intend to finish this. Lucky I can still remember what's going on, though, otherwise we'd all be screwed. Honestly, I really hope I don't screw up with something and have problems with continuity, hehehehehe. **_


	15. Veritaserum

_**:P To the 'filler' comment. It may just be filler but at least it has relevance to the plot. So there! Enjoy Chapter 15. Also, as a little trivia, this fic is now as long as its prequel with 15 chapters, however, word-wise, it is shorter because its prequel had 45,645 words. I don't know how many words this has because I can't well look at the word count to the story when the chapter is not written, can I? But I guarantee it'll still be less when this chapter is finished since I don't usually write roughly 8,000 words per chapter. Eh… who knows, though.**_

_Chapter 15: Veritaserum_

Harry always found it odd when he was under a Disillusionment Charm. The sensation of being able to feel your limbs and every other part of your body was strange when you couldn't see them. It was also slightly difficult judging how fast one should move to make contact with an object, such as when Harry pushed open the wall at the end of a secret passageway leading inside Hogwarts. He, Ron, and Hermione exited the dark tunnel into one of Hogwart's spacious corridors. It was empty. Their trek in had been easy as well. No Death Eaters.

From what Harry could judge, they were on the first floor. He knew exactly how to find the dungeons from here as well, and, after that, Slughorn's storeroom. McGonagall, Malfoy, and Neville should be on their way to the Transfiguration classroom now. They'd taken a separate way into the castle. Harry hoped that they had not run into any opposition that might give way to the fact that there were not six intruders in the castle. But, then again, he'd probably know by now.

He suddenly felt quite stupid. They had all rushed headlong into this plan without really considering the risks. First and foremost, they hadn't done any reconnaissance, something Harry now felt was very vital, and he felt stupid for overlooking it. Also, they had no way to communicate with the other group, though they had all agreed to meet in the Forbidden Forest directly behind Hagrid's hut. Still, there were so many dangers…. But it could not be dwelled upon.

"Follow me," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

It was a rather difficult task. Harry had to halt whenever they needed to make a turn to stop Ron and Hermione. After the second turn they took, he finally gave up, and they all took hands so as not to separate. Harry led them on, ignoring how it was slightly awkward to be clutching Ron's hand.

Silently, the trio strode the corridors, headed for the Entrance Hall.

Still, they had not met any resistance. Though, they did pass a rather grim looking Death Eater as they found their way into the Entrance Hall.

It was empty.

The trio ran toward the dungeon entrance, descending the familiar flight of stairs. It was quite easy to get to Slughorn's storeroom. The only person they encountered was the decrepit Filch who was muttering to himself about torturous punishments for deserving students. They used caution while sneaking past him, though Harry really doubted he could hear very well anymore. Mrs. Norris was not about either, so carefulness was not necessarily prudent.

When Harry reached the door to Slughorn's private storeroom, he let go of Ron's hand and magicked it open easily. He entered the tiny closet, and quickly scanned the shelves for Veritaserum. Harry located it quickly; it sat in a small, silver vial, clearly marked. He snatched it off its perch and unscrewed the stopper, looking into the vial. What lay inside appeared to be merely water.

Good. That meant the potion hadn't been mismarked.

Harry stuffed it into his pocket where it became just as invisible as the rest of him (with the exception of Neville, they had all mastered Disillusionment Charms to the point where they were nearly as good as Dumbledore [Ron reckoned you could occasionally see the outline of his feet, and Harry was sure his messy hair looked rather like heat waves to the sharp eye]).

Their task was now completed. They just had to exit Hogwarts quietly now, and hope that McGonagall, Neville, and Malfoy could manage the same.

Harry once again grabbed Ron and Hermione—this time by the arms—and led them quickly back out the dungeons. They didn't encounter Filch this time.

Harry was the first to burst into the Entrance Hall since the passageway to it from the dungeons was so narrow. Immediately his eyes spied a Death Eater standing by the large, oak doors.

It was Dolohov, Harry was almost sure.

He froze, and then squeezed Ron and Hermione's arms as warning. Very quietly, they crept across the Hall, toward the way they had come. Ron, however, managed to trip over Harry's left foot, and slam his hard on the ground.

Dolohov stiffened and drew his wand.

"Who's there?" he hissed, looking straight at Harry, Ron and Hermione. They were all frozen now.

"_Homenum Revel--"_

Several things happened at once.

Dolohov began the incantation that would give the trio away, Hermione gasped, making the Death Eater pause near the last syllable of his spell, and she drew her wand.

"_Stupefy!" _she cried.

But somehow Dolohov reacted instantly and batted the spell away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all ducked as the Death Eater madly bellowed _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The Killing Curse overshot them, smashing into the stairs behind them and sending chunks of stone flying.

"Show yourselves, or I'll kill you!" Dolohov bellowed. He madly began to fire off bolts of green light all across the Entrance Hall. Harry took advantage of his distraction, aimed his own wand and said: _"Stupefy!"_

The spell hit the Death Eater square in the chest. He was knocked backward, banging into the doors with a clamorous boom.

"_Incarcerous!" _Harry cried.

Cord flew from the tip of his wand, binding the stunned Dolohov in a thick coat of ropes as an extra precaution.

"Someone will have heard that," said Harry.

The Death Eater had managed to let off about seven killing curses, several of which had hit portraits which had screamed loudly before bursting into flame.

"Harry, shouldn't we take him with us?" Hermione asked. "What if the others didn't manage to stun one?"

"We might as well," said Harry.

Hermione flicked her wand, and Dolohov rose into the air on his own accord.

"Hold on," said Harry, waving his wand wildly and undoing the enchantments which sealed the doors to Hogwarts. It was rather difficult. The Death Eater's had placed a few different ones, apart from those that were usually cast upon it.

"Harry!" Ron cried. "They'll be here any second!"

"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione and Harry in unison.

Finally, after several long, drawn-out moments of intense concentration, the great oak doors creaked open. Harry, Ron, and Hermione (while simultaneously levitating Dolohov in the air) tore off into the lawns of the school, headed for Hagrid's hut. For a fleeting moment, Harry considered how ridiculous a flying man bound in ropes would look to a Death Eater if they happened to glance out a window. Of course, it would also be extremely suspicious, and would likely warrant investigation. Harry would rather avoid that, obviously.

After a bit of a sprint, the trio and their captive arrived at the tree line of the Forbidden Forest just behind Hagrid's hut. Hermione set Dolohov down on the cold, leafy ground while Harry called out for the others.

"Malfoy, Neville, Minerva?" he whispered. It still felt odd to address McGonagall as Minerva.

He received now answer, however.

"Damn," Harry snapped. "They're not here!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" cried Ron. "You don't think they got in any trouble? How long do you reckon we'll have to wait?"

"I don't know," said Harry.

"I hope not," added Hermione.

"We can't just stand here forever," Ron hissed.

"We can't go looking for them either," Hermione returned. "We can't communicate. If one of us goes looking and get into trouble—"

"Shut up, both of you," Harry ordered, listening.

He'd thought he'd heard a faint yelp. It sounded rather like Neville….

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"I heard something," said Harry. "Stay here."

"Wait!" Ron and Hermione cried in unison.

"Just wait here," Harry snapped and took off running.

He sprinted around Hagrid's hut, back up a gradual slope toward the castle. Immediately, chaos leapt into view. Neville was running, half shrouded in the invisibility cloak. McGonagall and Malfoy were sprinting beside him, no longer under Disillusionment Charms. All three were tossing curses behind their backs toward three Death Eaters in hot pursuit.

Harry halted, took careful aim, and let off a swirling jet of orange light. It hit one Death Eater in the face, causing his mask to burst into flame. He fell to the ground, rolling and flailing. Another Death Eater cast a jet of emerald his way, but it missed horribly, exploding in the dirt. Harry caught his attacker with a full body bind and Malfoy took out the last one with a well aimed hex. Harry lifted the Disillusionment Charm from himself as the three reached him. He couldn't help but notice they were empty handed. Good thing they had taken Dolohov indeed.

"What happened?" asked quickly, turning to run with them back toward the Forest.

"We were ambushed by Yaxley and those other two," Malfoy replied. "Longbottom tripped over the cloak."

"We captured Dolohov and got the Veritaserum," Harry said.

"Good," McGonagall interjected. "We can't go back. More are coming."

The party kept on in silence, reaching the place where Ron and Hermione were (now visible as well) in seconds.

"Let's go further into the forest," said Harry. "We need find a safer place to Apparate."

"Dolohov is awake now," Hermione said. "I cursed his mouth shut."

"Good," Harry said. "Pick him up and let's move."

Hermione flicked her wand and the Death Eater rose into the air once again. The reunited band of wizards strode swiftly into the forest, leaving Hogwarts behind. They walked in silence for a long time. Perhaps half an hour. Then Dolohov swore loudly, and everyone halted. Hermione dropped him. He hit the forest floor with a grunt, and struggled impossibly with his bindings.

"We ought to go now, Harry," said Hermione. "The school's wards should be a bit weaker out here. You should be able to undo them much more easily."

"Wait," Ron interrupted. "Let's just interrogate the git right here."

"And let him run back to Hogwarts when we leave?" Hermione snapped in irritation.

"He can't do anything. He's tied up with no wand," Ron argued.

"We might as well just get over with now," Harry agreed, pulling the Veritaserum from his pocket. "We don't want him to see Headquarters. There's a chance he could escape and run back to Voldemort."

"True, indeed," said McGonagall tartly.

Harry pulled the stopper off the vial and tossed it into the bushes. Slowly, he approached Dolohov who spit and began to swear loudly.

Harry aimed his wand, using it to keep the Death Eater's mouth open. He crouched and dumped the entire contents of the bottle into their captive's mouth. He wait as Dolohov was forced to swallow before drawing himself to his full height and looking down at his prisoner.

"Do you know who I am?" inquired Harry.

"Harry Potter!" Dolohov spat.

"What is your name?"

"Antonin Dolohov."

"Do you work for Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes!"

Dolohov's face looked livid. Good. The serum was forcing him to tell the truth, and Harry was willing to bet the reason that the Death Eater looked furious was because he didn't want to give any answers.

"Where is Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"In the cave."

"Which cave?" Harry demanded.

"The one by the sea! The one where he hid his Horcrux!"

For a fleeting moment Harry saw fire, fleeing inferi, and Dumbledore, weakened and whithered…. Snape's look of disgust. A flash of green—

What an obvious choice! He should have known Voldemort would hide in a secluded area. He would know that Harry knew where it was, of course, but he would've been sure that Harry would never think to mention to someone to look there, or go there himself. Voldemort had been right, then.

"How do you know about the Horcrux?" Harry inquired more out of fleeting curiosity than anything else.

"It's not much of a secret these days, Potter," snapped the Death Eater furiously.

"Has he made anymore?"

"No."

"Where is my son?"

Dolohov burst into a fit of laughter. Harry jabbed his wand into the Death Eater's neck.

"Where is my son?" he repeated.

"I don't know," said Dolohov. "He might still be with the Dark Lord, but…."

"What?!"

"The Dark Lord said he'd be moving the brat to Azkaban soon enough."

"Where is he now?!" Harry asked again.

"I don't know!" Dolohov barked.

Harry grunted angrily, and shot a hex at the Death Eater, knocking him unconscious.

"We need to get to Albus as soon as possible," said Harry. "Look, Voldemort obviously wants me. I should go to the cave by myself. I know where it is. I'll give him what he wants. Whatever happens, I'll—"

"Don't be stupid, Potter," Malfoy cut in.

"Nonsense," said McGongall. "Be reasonable, Harry. We'll take a few hours to discuss our plans back at Headquarters."

"Should we bring him with us?" Ron asked.

"No," said Harry immediately. "I wasn't really sure before, but we can't bring him with us. I won't risk the chance of him overhearing our plans and escaping. He won't escape those ropes for a long time, and I doubt anyone will find him soon."

"Yes, we should leave him here," said Hermione.

"What if he dies?" asked Neville.

"He'll be found eventually," Harry stated. "And he's killed so many, Neville. If he dies, so be it."

"But shouldn't he have been killed in a…. Well, it's a bit embarrassing to die of thirst or something…."

"We don't have time for this!" Ron barked. "He's a bloody Death Eater. He'll figure out a way to escape, and he'll probably end up dying later."

"Whatever," Harry snapped. "Let's get back to Headquarters now. We need to get Albus. If Voldemort thinks Albus is no longer…."

"Let's go," Hermione agreed quickly.

In unison they all spun and Apparated, disappearing into the crushing darkness.

_**Yeah, it's short. Just means the next one can come sooner… maybe. I've almost got this fic plotted to the end and am trying to shoot for epic here.**_


	16. Bad Idea

_**Once again, I plotted this chapter to be longer, but I didn't quite follow my plot. I laid everything out to longer, but I… went awry. Anyway, it's good this way. I would've posted days ago but my internet has been out.**_

_Chapter 16: Bad Idea_

Harry, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Neville, and Malfoy arrived at Teddy Lupin's residence near midnight. Harry hadn't realized it was so late until he stepped into the kitchen where the entire Order seemed to be waiting. Several were sitting at the table. They all made way for Harry and the others, and Harry took a seat at the head.

All eyes angled to him expectantly. Ginny's hard stare met his for a moment.

Then he announced their findings.

"We know Voldemort's location."

A beat of silence.

No one spoke for the rest of the night, and the week, and the month, it seemed.

Then Hermione said: "we don't know where Albus is for sure, however. His whereabouts being our most pressing problem."

Harry thought that was a rather light way of detailing the situation.

"We snagged Dolohov," Harry stated quickly, intent on stopping the obvious questions before they could ever be asked. "He said Voldemort was hiding in a cave by the sea…. Okay, for those of you who don't know, the night Dumbledore died, he left Hogwarts."

If at all possible, everyone's rapt attention seemed to focus even more on Harry.

"I'd gone with him, and we both went to a cave near the sea. We were looking for Horcruxes, and Dumbledore'd thought that there was one in the cave because Tom Riddle used to play there when he was a child. All of you know Voldemort was Tom Riddle. Anyway… we all know what happened after Dumbledore and I got back to the school but…. The cave is where Voldemort is hiding. That's what Dolohov said."

"Where's our son, Harry," Ginny asked gravely.

"We don't know for sure," Ron replied.

"However, Dolohov said that he is under the impression that He-Who-Must… that… that Voldemort may have transferred Albus to Azkaban." McGonagall finished.

It was now so utterly silent. No one even seemed to be breathing.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley. "Perhaps that is what… Voldemort wanted us to believe."

"I'd agree to that," concurred Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," Percy interjected.

"Makes sense," said Lee Jordan.

"Harry," Cho Chang addressed. "We all know Voldemort is clever. He's probably trying to lure you…."

"He's obviously using your son against you," snapped Malfoy impatiently. "We all know that. They're all right, though, I'd wager. If you ask me, I think the Dark Lord has Albus near him. He wants Potter dead of course, more than anyone, but he wants the Order dead as well. He must have discovered we were going back to Hogwarts somehow…. Or maybe he just planted false information. He wants us all to go to Azkaban so that he can kill us and he'll likely try capturing Harry. Speaking from past experience…. I'd reckon he wants you to watch your family die before your eyes, Potter…."

"What he wants is irrelevant," Harry said. "We need to move now. We have to get Albus back. Killing Voldemort is a secondary priority. He's got the damn Ministry in his pocket now. It'd be suicide to really try and take him on. This is a rescue mission, plainly. It's also a trap, I guess. There's no way around it. But we've got to do something now!"

"I told you, Harry," Hermione interjected. "I told you what we have to do."

"We're not going about it like that!" Harry snapped. "Voldemort wants us to go to Azkaban, just like Malfoy said. I know he does! He's got his forces amassed there or something. They're all there and they're either guarding Albus or they're not. Voldemort's hinted at the cards he's got. We know what they are, we just don't know _where _they are, or how he's going to use them. It's too much of a risk, Hermione. We're not doing it."

"Harry," said McGonagall softly.

They all looked at her.

"I believe we all know that we're at fault for this whole situation."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "It's not anyone's fault here that Albus was kidnapped. It's mine. I should've known that Aurora Sinistra wasn't really—"

"You misunderstand me," McGonagall cut Harry off. "What I mean is, none of us prevented… Voldemort from returning. When he did, none of us acted fast enough. It is the Order's fault that he was able to seize control of the Ministry. We do not even know his full capabilities. He has us cornered and he will destroy us one by one if it comes down to it. I believe I speak for us all when I say we failed. We must do something, and if we all are killed in an attempt to save Albus…. So be it. Who here stands with me?"

Harry looked around. There was a long pause, and silence. Everyone was contemplating what McGonagall had just said. After an eternity, and general murmur of agreement spread throughout the group.

"No," said Harry, shutting them all up. "I can't have you die for—"

"If we die, Harry," said Seamus, "it wont be for you. I guess that's what you want to hear, eh? Well, then, it wont be for you. It'll be for Albus."

"But—"

"Just shut up, mate," Ron cut in. "We're all in this. Like McGonagall said, I think it's bloody certain that we've lost. We might have one thing left to fight for. That'd be for getting Albus back."

"Yes, Harry," said Hermione in exasperation. A tear rolled down her cheek. "We may _all _die. But we all know that we cannot just sit here and do nothing. Voldemort wants to kill you, Harry. He's taken Albus as bait. If he thinks you will not come, he'll try to find someone else. You've got to get Albus back, Harry, you've _got _to. Nothing else matters right now. Everything can be planned when we've got more time!"

"But we don't have time enough to plan for what's going to happen now!" Harry cried. "I…."

"Harry," said Ron. "We're doing something. We're helping you, so stuff it. Hermione's got an idea. We're going to use it."

"It's suicide!" snapped Harry.

"So be it," said McGonagall. Another murmur of agreement sounded throughout the group.

"What are we going to do, then?" asked Mr. Weasley. "I'm ready."

"Me, too," said Cho.

"Aye," said Seamus.

"Ve are with you, 'Arry," said Fleur.

"Yeah, Harry," agreed Bill.

"We're all ready," George said.

And almost everyone else stated something similar before Neville of all people finally told them to shut up.

"What's the plan?" asked a former D.A. member who's name Harry couldn't quite place. That fact made him slightly more optimistic, though not much. They had numbers, but nowhere near enough.

"We're all going to Azkaban. Either way, we'll fight Voldemort's forces there. Personally, I think Albus is with Voldemort in the cave. That's where Harry will go. He'll have to face Voldemort alone… or, mostly alone while we distract the Death Eaters. Harry, I think the first chance you get, you should grab Albus and Apparate."

"Sounds as good as anything to me," said George.

"Hermione, forgive me for saying this, but you're being stupid for once! So many things could go wrong! Not one thing is guaranteed. We don't even have any allies at Azkaban. Maybe if you were to go to the Ministry during the day instead, some of the Aurors would revolt or something but—"

"Harry, will you be quiet?" Neville requested calmly. "No matter what you say, we're all doing this."

Most everyone said "yeah" in unison.

Harry banged his fists hard upon the table in frustration but nobody paid attention to him.

"So, how're we going to attack Azkaban?" inquired Mr. Weasley.

"Well… obviously some of us will have to enter the tower itself," said Hermione. "The point is distraction, though. We need to draw Death Eaters there and away from Voldemort. So… how many people have broomsticks?"


	17. To Azkaban

_**Sorry for the delay. But I hope you wont blame me because I'm trying to shoot for epic here. Well… Character Epic, heheheh. I hope I don't fall flat. Enjoy.**_

_Chapter 17: To Azkaban_

When the crushing darkness gave way, Harry's lungs filled with chilly wet air. He stood on a sheer rock face by a tumultuous sea. It was churning, and dark in color. The waves crashed against the cliff, sending up a mist that gave the air a salty taste. Harry had been here before, many years ago with Dumbledore. It had been a horrible night, back then. Harry never thought much of the value of Divination, but he hoped that the fact that the last time he was here had been a time of horrible events wasn't some sort of omen…. Especially considering where the rest of the Order was.

Hermione had won. Harry had come to the cliff again to face Voldemort alone. He hoped that Albus would be here, away from the danger… or… that was foolish. Harry hoped that Albus would be within his reach was more like it. If he was in Azkaban… Harry would know soon enough, and he would go there, regardless of what Voldemort had planned.

Harry could only hope with all hope that the Order would be able to release prisoners in Azkaban that the Ministry had unjustly jailed there. Hopefully they'd find allies. The Death Eaters notwithstanding, there were also a huge number of Dementors now. The Ministry hadn't used them in since Voldemort's last return. Since the Dark Lord was back, though, Harry was sure they'd be there now.

Harry sighed and looked over the edge of the cliff.

The cave would be right under him.

It was foolish to Apparate here. He might as well have just appeared at the mouth of the cave. He doubted Voldemort would be lurking in the shadows to ambush him. He was sure the Dark Lord wanted to face him directly. That, Harry thought—no, hoped—was foolish as well, but on Voldemort's part.

"Enjoying the view, Potter?" cackled a feminine voice behind him. Harry spun, aiming his wand at the source of words, and found Bellatrix Lestrange. It _seemed _she was unarmed. Harry did not lower his wand.

"Where's my son?"

"What? Oh, I don't know," Bellatrix replied in a sweet, innocent voice. "I haven't been in the Dark Lord's chamber for several hours now. I was instructed to bring you there when you arrived."

"Voldemort's been expecting me."

It was a statement. Not a question.

Bellatrix's eye twitched, and she frowned. "Yes, he has been, Potter."

What did that mean, then? _Was _Albus with Voldemort? That would make Azkaban a death trap for the Order, though Harry was sure it would be either way…. He had to know, though. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd do…. He'd cross that road when he came to it.

Oh, but he'd been so stupid! How could he have allowed this to happen? So little planning….

"If you'll follow me," said Bellatrix.

Then Harry was reminded why he'd come without proper preparation. He had no choice.

"Lead the way."

"Take my hand." She extended it toward him.

"No."

"Don't be difficult, Potter. Well… I suppose it is natural for children to be—"

"Shut up!" Harry snapped. "Why should I take your hand?"

"Potter, Potter, Potter, you're so dimwitted. Listen to yourself! Let me put it this way…. If you don't take my hand, more of your friends will likely die."

"I am not taking your hand."

Bellatrix drew her wand.

Harry gripped his tighter, and prepared to launch a particularly nasty curse if necessary.

"Listen, Potter. The only way for us to reach the Dark Lord's chamber from here is to Apparate into it. You don't know the bloody way, so I am taking you!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, Potter, _really_!"

"No. It's just occurred to me that you don't want me to see any other part of the cave besides' Voldemort's chamber. Obviously there was something Dumbledore and I missed when we came here last time. Voldemort knows we know these caves, and he knows that I can escape whatever wards he has by running out of the cave. You want to disorient me so that I can't."

Bellatrix giggled mischievously. Harry was absurdly reminded of a small, spoiled little girl about to get her way.

"You know how to play the game, eh, Potter?"

"Yeah, I've gotten pretty good at it. Why don't you tell Voldemort to come up here and face me where neither of us has any advantage?"

"Because that's against the rules."

"Not good enough."

"Then maybe this will make you rethink your position. If you don't take my hand, I'll Apparate without you and the Dark Lord will kill your poor little son."

Harry had to stop himself from shouting _Crucio_ at the top of his lungs.

Albus was in the cave, then! He was with Voldemort.

This was a trap. A very problematic trap, but Harry had to walk into it now. There was no alternative.

"Oh, that's got him, eh?" Bellatrix snickered, speaking more to herself than to him. "You want to take my hand now, Potter?"

She extended her wand-free hand once more. Harry scowled, and grabbed it.

Darkness so tight and crushing crashed around Harry that he thought me might suffocate. Usually, Apparition felt as though one were being squeeze through a narrow tube. _This _felt as if he were being forced through a steel straw that was getting smaller each second. It felt as though his ribs would break and his chest would cave in.

His anguished lungs burned for air, and he felt as though he were about to die. Bellatrix's cold hand was clasped firmly with his. Briefly, he wondered, as the sensation of _this _side-long Apparition trip became nearly unbearable, if Bellatrix was intentionally making it so horrible. He'd no idea how she could do such a thing, but he was sure Voldemort would be very angry because he was just about to die….

His lungs then filled with air on their own accord, then pumped it out furiously, and refilled on their own accord. Harry was on his hands and knees, pressing against a rough, cold, stone floor. He coughed and hacked as he gasped for air.

A cool, high pitched laugh made him look up.

Before him, on the ground, seemingly burning on the stone floor itself was an emerald green fire, which lit the natural chamber he stood in. Behind that fire, a ways away, stood Lord Voldemort. He was the source of the laughter.

Suddenly, Harry remembered why he was here. He glanced frantically around for Albus, but did not find his son anywhere.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter," hissed Voldemort in a whispery, cold, and airy voice.

"Where's my son?!" Harry half coughed, half roared as he stood to his feet.

"Not here," replied the Dark Lord, stating the obvious. "Come now, Harry, did you really expect so little of me? We both knew that this was a trap. Or, at least, I had faith that you did. Perhaps I overestimated your intelligence."

"No," snapped Harry furiously. "You didn't give me a choice! I had to act on Dolohov's information. It could've been bad in a few more hours."

"Ah, yes. Dolohov. Antonin Dolohov, what an excellent choice you made, my dear Bella." Voldemort shot a rather disturbing look at Bellatrix who burst into a fit of laughter.

The Dark Lord's eyes flicked back to Harry, and he was smiling, as though this situation was a highly amusing joke.

"You see, Harry," said Voldemort. "I gave Dolohov specific instructions to give you the information he did. Bellatrix here suggested it be Dolohov, rather than herself. After all, we assumed you'd think any information from my dear Bella was suspicious…. But Dolohov… of course you wouldn't question the extent of his loyalty when he answered your questions. You'd listen to the answers."

Harry felt his heart sink and his belly burst into flame.

He'd been _played_.

Not only had he been deceived; he'd been _easily played_.

"You…." Harry trailed off, gripping his wand tighter. "YOU BASTARD!"

A horrible sound then issued from Bellatrix's constricted lips. A mangled, snarling growl of rage.

Harry saw her instinctively taking aim in retaliation to his mild insult which had obviously infuriated her.

Maybe it was the Death Eater's age catching up with her, but Harry was quicker.

Wordlessly, Harry shot off a curse designed to disable. Bellatrix attempted to parry, but her wand flew from her hands—the curse tossed it away as if it were nothing—and hit her square in the stomach. A curious thing happened then. She flew backwards at an impossible speed, and even flipped once in the air before hitting the cave wall and sinking down to the floor, falling on her face.

Voldemort scowled.

"Despicable, Harry. Do you not realize that could've killed her?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do," Harry returned more calmly than he would've thought possible. "And if it did then good riddance."

"Come now, Harry, she was bystander. Dumbledore would not wish for you to kill observers."

"Shut up," Harry snapped. "She's not dead. I can see her breathing. You _will _die, though. Right now."

At this, Voldemort laughed.

"Really? How do you expect to kill me, Potter. I doubt you can muster the hatred necessary to cast the Killing Curse."

"Is that so? _Try me_."

Voldemort smiled.

A flash of movement.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

But the spell was not Harry's.

The jet of green zoomed across the length of the chamber, passing through the emerald flames and causing them to grow into a great inferno before they exploded, knocking Harry back.

The Killing Curse whizzed over Harry's head, screaming as it went. It made contact with the wall above him, spraying him in a fine layer of dust, and casting chunks of stone all around.

The dust had coated Harry's glasses, but he could clearly see Voldemort—still on his feet—about to try again.

Harry flicked is hand, and a ball of black energy exploded from its tip, traveling through the still-lit fire (and extinguishing it) straight toward Voldemort. The Dark Lord twisted his wand in flurry of motion, weaving it through a complex pattern with such precision it was apparent he'd done it many times before. The ball of black disappeared, and a long tongue of flame shot out of Voldemort's wand, flying forward to kill.

Harry retaliated with a concentrated jet of water which crashed into the flame.

A booming hiss echoed in the chamber, and the two jets of fire and water collided, stopping one another. Both combatants upped the power behind their weapons and the jet of water grew into a river. The angry flame grew into a furious conflagration.

A deafening hissing clamor roared now. Harry felt the need to cover his ears.

The fire and water met in the middle of the cave, dissolving one another.

Harry knew both he and Voldemort could keep this up for a while. It was not hard to produce water, even in these quantities; the same was true for fire.

But then it would be a stalemate, and every second that went by was a second in which Albus could be injured at Azkaban, or even killed. As time passed, Voldemort was more and more likely to press for some sort of advantage. Harry would have to beat him.

Preparing himself in all of a half-second, Harry took a shot. He broke his furious, raging jet and ducked to the right. Voldemort's inferno passed him at collided into the cave wall, instantly blackening it.

It was then Harry had the best chance he was ever going to get.

He took a deep breath and thought of everything that angered him. Everything that had happened. Voldemort's many murders; the slaughter of his parents, the death of Dumbledore, of Sirius, of Lupin, Tonks, George, and everyone who'd perished in Hogwarts so many years ago. Harry could taste the words, now. He could cast the spell. With it, he would bring justice.

Harry opened his mouth.

Then all the wind was knocked from his lungs as some nameless spell hit him in the chest. Bellatrix's shrill laugh was agonizing in his ears. His eyes were watering.

It would take him too long to recover from whatever the hell that was.

He'd be dead.

He had to do something!

Harry shouted something that sounded nothing like what he wanted, and the cave floor before both Voldemort and Bellatrix exploded.

Harry ran for it, trying to shake off the spell.

He dashed madly through the natural corridors, convinced that he'd run in to Voldemort or Bellatrix before reaching the cave's exit.

To his grateful and intense surprised, however, he came upon the underground lake. He could see the basin that had once housed a Horcrux in its center.

He could also see the boat on the other side, and the shore which would lead him to the mouth of the cave.

How the hell was he going to get to it?!

Perhaps—

Something happened then. Everything changed in a fleeting moment. For one second, Harry was staring out across a body of placid, glassy water. In the next second, he was staring over an impossibly think, white sheet of ice.

Harry spun to face Voldemort walking slowly toward him, wand extended. Bellatrix was tailing her master like a puppy.

"No interference from the Inferi, I think," hissed the Dark Lord.

Harry shot a curse at him, but didn't wait to watch it inevitably fail to make contact. He jumped out onto the ice and sprinted for the basin in the middle. He reached it quickly.

Voldemort and Bellatrix were now several yards away.

Harry aimed his wand at Bellatrix.

"_Se--"_

He was cut off, being forced to duck under a beam of emerald light.

Once again, he took aim, but it was nowhere near a precise.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!" _he bellowed, fully intending to inflict a mortal wound upon Bellatrix that would kill her. She had produced the Killing Curse that had caused him to duck.

Harry's curse, however, did not hit Bellatrix.

Instead it hit the ice below her feet.

An absolutely nauseating sound, like glass being cut, screamed in Harry's ears.

Then Bellatrix cried in surprise, and probably cold-induced shock as she fell through into the water.

Dozens of hands seemed to spring up around her, and grab at every inch of her body that was still above water.

Voldemort reacted naturally, turned to get a glimpse of what had happened.

Harry shot off the same curse again, but his aim was off.

It hit glanced off Voldemort's arm, nevertheless ripping a bloody gash.

The Dark Lord screeched in pain, and Harry bolted toward the boat and the shore, skidding as he ran across the ice.

He reached the mouth of the caves seconds later and leapt in to the crushing darkness.

The Apparition seemed to last less than a second this time.

Suddenly Harry was standing on the top of Azkaban prison.

It was dark, and the air was cold.

It was also filled with many sounds. Shrieks and yells were most prominent, but there was also the crashing of waves.

Harry looked down. He was very close to the edge of the tower. He could see the churning sea below, and above it zoomed many riders on broomstick, flinging curses and hexes at one another. Green and red flashed over the water. Tiny explosions formed here and there, lightning the night.

Harry felt Azkaban vibrate below his feet, and suddenly the wall several stories below flew forward in chunks, falling to the water below.

Dozens and dozens of wraith-like things flew after the rock, chased by several full Patronuses. Harry laughed involuntarily as the Dementors fled. All was not lost here!

"HARRY!"

Harry spun as Ron and Hermione landed near him, dropping their brooms on the tower top. Harry extended his wand as he caught sight of several Death Eaters who'd been pursuing Ron and Hermione coming their way. Before he could let off a curse, however, a jet of flame flew from Hermione's wand and hit one Death Eater. He fell in a burning ball of fire all the way down to the sea.

The rest of them landed; Ron and Hermione backed up to flank Harry. The trio extended their wands.

One of the Death Eaters laughed.

"Harry," hissed Hermione quickly as the cackling Death Eater began to remove its mask. "Most of the Order is inside. They're held up on some floor. We think Albus is at the top."

Instinctively, Harry looked down at the tower roof below his feet. Ablus might be right below him, terrified, but alive and well. He was sure of this. For a moment his spirits rose. Then reality came crashing down as the laughing Death Eater stopped shrieking and spoke.

"'Ello, Potter!" screeched Alecto Carrow.

"Nice night, eh?" cried her brother.

"How nice of you to join us," boomed someone it took Harry a second to recognize.

It was the _Minster of Magic _himself: Alonzo Besierwan.

Harry sneered at Besierwan, who was standing to Alecto's right. Amycus was on her left.

"You!" Harry cried. "You've been a puppet of Voldemort all this time!"

"Not a puppet, you moronic fool! I've been a _partner_!"

Harry almost laughed.

"You're deluded!"

"No, Potter! Do not pretend as though you know the ways in which the Dark Lord operates. You were a failure as the Head Auror, and an incompetent headmaster! I slipped right past you, and so did Alecto! You did not suspect either of us."

"I knew you were a git from the start," Harry retorted.

Alecto giggled shrilly.

Harry aimed his wand at her.

"YOU!" he cried. "It's because of _you_ that my son is here! It's YOUR fault he's in danger!"

Harry didn't even know what curse he sent off.

But it didn't matter.

A figure appeared between Harry and Alecto, and batted the spell away as if it were nonexistent in the first place.

Ron gulped then, and Hermione gasped.

Alecto screamed something incoherent.

"STOP!" bellowed Lord Voldemort, holding up a hand to the Death Eaters behind him. Harry instinctively trained his wand on the figure that had just saved Alecto Carrow; the Dark Lord. "Potter is mine!"

Ron and Hermione both stepped closer to Harry, their wands trained on Voldemort as well. Ron's free hand was quivering slightly, and Hermione seemed to be quivering ever so slightly.

"Milord!" boomed Besierwan. "Let me kill Potter! I can handle him easily! It would be such an honor."

"No," hissed the Dark Lord. "Potter is mine!"

"Actually, _Tom_," snapped Harry, "I'm about to go rescue my son. Do you think we can postpone this meeting?"

"Ah, Harry, that wont be necessary at all," sneered the Dark Lord.

And then Bellatrix was at his side. She was sopping wet, her robes were torn, and her hair was wildly disheveled. However, as bad has she looked, and after everything Harry had seen before, he'd never witnessed a more terrible sight.

Bellatrix had her arm wrapped around Albus' neck, and her wand pointed at his temple.

_**Sorry for my delay in updating, and for what is probably not a very well edited chapter. But I'm not sorry for this cliffy, which is quite evil if I do say so myself.**_

_**So… do you like? Is getting a bit epic here?**_


	18. The Killing Curse

_**And so it ends….**_

_Chapter 18: The Killing Curse_

Harry aimed his wand at Bellatrix who was giggling lightly. There was absolutely no way he'd be able to hit her with anything. Albus would get hurt first. Harry gritted his teeth in fury as Voldemort spoke.

"I'm willing to negotiate," said the Dark Lord.

"Me too," snapped Harry. "Let Albus go and we'll talk it over."

"No. I have prepared a counter offer, however."

"Oh?" hissed Harry, his wand still pointed at Bellatrix's face.

"Yes," said Voldemort. "Your friends will drop their wands. Toss them off the tower."

"Or what?" growled Harry.

"Or your son will die," stated Voldemort as though Harry had just displayed a great ineptness.

"Don't do it," Harry hissed to Ron and Hermione who both looked ready to toss their wands behind them, down into the sea surrounding Azkaban.

"_Avada…"_ Bellatrix hissed.

"ALRIGHT!" Harry relented. "Do it!"

Hermione and Ron both audibly groaned and tossed their weapons behind them. Harry heard nothing as they fell toward the crashing waves. Bellatrix snickered.

Harry, unsure whether or not he was making the right decision, trained his wand on Voldemort who did not move. Then, two soft _pops _sounded, and Ron and Hermione were gone from Harry flanks.

Two more _pops_ and they were in the Carrow's grasps behind Voldemort. Alecto had Hermione by the neck, wand jabbed into her cheek, and Amycus had his arm gripped around Ron's throat, wand resting lightly on the side of his head.

"Now," said Voldemort quietly.

Harry felt his face flush red-hot with fury.

"Tell the feeble Order to cease fighting, or both your son and your friends will die."

"No, Harry!" cried Ron.

"You mustn't!" shrieked Hermione. "Let him kill us! Don't call the Order off!"

"You obviously misheard me, idiot Weasley, and pathetic Mudblood," snapped Voldemort. "I said Potter's friends as well as his _son _would die."

Harry exhaled sharply, clenching his jaw in a combination of impossible frustration and anger. He angled his wand away from Voldemort and toward his own neck.

Harry cast a nonverbal spell.

"EVERYONE!" he cried, his voice now ten times as loud as normal. "STOP FIGHTING NOW! DO NOT GIVE UP YOUR WANDS!"

In a smooth flourish, Harry undid the spell and aimed his wand at Voldemort again.

"Fair, I do believe," said the Dark Lord. "I shall allow them to keep their wands. They are no immediate threat to our confrontation here. Alecto, Amycus, Bellatrix, Besierwan—back away!"

The Carrows and Bellatrix followed the Dark Lord's orders instantly, backing up almost to the edge of the tower while keeping their grips firmly shut on their hostages. Besierwan, however, strode to Voldemort's side and pointed his wand at Harry.

"Let me kill Potter," said the Minister. "Please, my lord! It would be such an honor!"

Bellatrix shrieked something incoherent.

"No," said Voldemort, not bothering to look at Besierwan. "Minister, you have outlived your useful life, I'm afraid."

"WHAT?!" bellowed Besierwan indignantly as Voldemort's wand angled toward him. "We were part—"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a flash of green, a short-lived whoosh, and Besierwan's body flew from Voldemort's side, rolling across the tower roof before falling off into the sea below.

Harry saw his opportunity, then, as Voldemort's wand was pointed to the side. He inhaled sharply and roared the incantation to the Killing Curse.

A jet of green erupted from the tip of his wand, sailing straight for Voldemort whose eyes widened slightly. However, halfway between Harry and his enemy, the curse flickered and died.

Voldemort laughed loudly. He still looked slightly uneasy, but he sounded quite confident.

"Haven't I told you, Harry?" hissed the Dark Lord. "You have to _mean _it."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"_Crucio!"_

That one he meant.

But it didn't hit Voldemort. Somehow the Dark Lord flicked his wand and the curse dropped and smashed into the tower roof, sparking a flash of fire.

Then Harry spotted a beam of emerald flying his way, he ducked, took aim, and bellowed into the night. A plume of fire erupted form the tip of his wand, zooming at Voldemort who Apparated out of the fire's path and reappeared off to the side.

The raging fire kept flying, however, straight for Hermione and Alecto Carrow.

The Death Eater's eyes widened in horror. She hesitated for a moment before angling her wand away from Hermione at the fire. It disappeared quickly, but, as Alecto had feared, it was a mistake. Hermione's elbow caught the woman hard in the stomach. She dropped her wand and stumbled backward… right off the tower.

She shrieked and made a grab, catching the ledge. Hermione snatched her falling wand straight out of the air and turned it to Amycus. The remaining Carrow tightened his grip around Ron's neck and opened his mouth.

A beautiful streak of cobalt shot from the tip of Alecto's wand, wielded by Hermione. It traveled right over Ron's shoulder and hit Amycus in the face, causing the Death Eater's nose, mouth, and eyes to vanish. Ron spun out of Amycus' grip, stole his captor's weapon, and stepped away.

The Death Eater clawed furiously at his throat, unable to breathe without a mouth or a nose. He stumbled on his own boot and fell off Azakban. Alecto shrieked.

This all occurred in the span of about two seconds. Before either Harry or Voldemort could fully register what had just happened, Hermione was aiming Alecto's wand at the Dark Lord, and Ron was pointing Amycus' at Bellatrix.

Voldemort scowled.

Harry half smiled.

Alecto Carrow grunted as she pulled herself back atop the tower.

"Cheater!" Alecto barked at Hermione.

Harry aimed his wand at the enraged Death Eater who looked as though she were about to run and engage in a physical fight with Hermione.

"You!" Harry roared. "You're the cause of this, you—you bitch! _Impendimenta!_"

The curse hit Alecto in the waist and sent her flying backward off the tower again. This time she did not catch the ledge.

"See, Potter," sneered Voldemort. "You _can _be cold. Why can you _not _cast the Killing Curse?"

"Still think I can't?" taunted Harry, although he wasn't sure he could. "Want to try me?"

"Of course," said Voldemort. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry ducked as Hermione bellowed _"Stupefy!"_

Voldemort spun as his curse flew over Harry's head, and cast a jet of green toward Hermione while simultaneously causing her beam of crimson to dissipate.

Then, several things all happened in a very short amount of time, but at exactly the same moment. Ron roared in fury, angling his wand away from Bellatrix toward Voldemort. Harry was almost sure Ron shouted out the incantation of the Killing Curse. His voice, though, was far too contorted with rage and instead of a jet of green flying toward Voldemort, a jet a teal erupted from the tip of Ron's wand.

At the same time, Bellatrix screeched and pointed her own wand at Ron. Whatever curse she cast, Harry did not know because as soon as she did, Harry noticed she'd turned slightly. Quickly, he weighed the odds. Could he hit her without hitting Albus?

He could!

She had threatened his son! She'd killed Sirius so many years ago, and tortured Hermione! She'd driven Neville's parents to madness and committed many more uncountable crimes, probably destroying dozens of other families. She deserved the die, and Harry wanted her to.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _he cried.

This time, the jet of green that burst from the tip of Harry's wand did not falter. It soared toward Bellatrix like some sort of whooshing death.

She could only turn her eyes before it hit her. They were wide with fear.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to cry out, but the Killing Curse stopped her, hitting her in the neck. Her arms went limp, and Albus burst forward from them, sprinting toward Harry.

His former captor fell forward, and hit the roof of the tower with a muffled thud.

"Dad!" Albus cried as he stopped at Harry's side.

Harry laid a hand on his son's shoulder and then looked at Ron and Hermione both of whom were still alive. Voldemort was, too. He was staring at Harry, livid.

Two _pops _then sounded, and Ron and Hermione appeared at Harry's side.

The Dark Lord hissed in rage.

"Not so easy being outnumbered, is it?" Harry sneered. Then he pointed his wand at his throat.

"_Sonorus!" _Harry cried, and then roared: "ATTACK!"

He aimed his wand at Voldemort again.

Screams sounded in the air once more, and the bellows of curses as the Death Eaters and Order Members began to battle on their brooms. Azkaban quivered again, and a loud explosion, like a gunshot, sounded. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Very good, Potter," said the Dark Lord. "Once again, I must admit my mistakes."

"Your last mistake," Harry corrected. "It's going to end right now."

"Oh, it is, indeed," sneered Voldemort. "But it is not my end. _Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry was fully prepared to duck, dodge, or do whatever he had to in order to avoid the Killing Curse. It took him the tiniest fraction of a second, however, to realize that the curse was not meant for him. It was headed straight for Albus.

The next tiny fraction of a second seemed to last an eternity as hundreds of thousands of thoughts rushed through Harry's head at one time.

In the chaos, something bellowed at him to move, otherwise that which he was thinking would become reality. It would be a reality more horrible than he could imagine, though.

Without a thought or consideration about the stupidity or effectiveness of what he was about to do, Harry countered Voldemort's attack.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The beam of red and the jet of green met in mid air, creating a great, golden light on the top of Azkaban and adding more noise to the air.

"Harry, you fool!" yelled Voldemort. "The wand I am holding does not belong to you! This trick will not work!"

"It won't have to!" someone retorted, but it was not Harry.

Hermione, Ron, Albus, Harry, and Voldemort all turned their heads upward to see Draco Malfoy flying toward them on his broomstick, wand aimed at Voldemort.

Hermione gasped as a rushing streak of green flew toward the Dark Lord, produced by his former servant.

Harry saw Voldemort spin and then felt it as he won the battle, and his curse, along with Voldemort's, streaked forward. They hit nothing, however, and just kept flying.

The world paused for the briefest moment.

Where….

It didn't matter.

"BACK TO HEADQUARTERS!" Harry bellowed, realizing he was still under the effects of his voice-amplification spell. He waved his wand, casting the spell away, grabbed his son, and Apparated.

Seconds later, he was breathing fresher sea air by Teddy Lupin's house.

Dozens and dozens of _pops _sounded all around him and Order Members appeared left and right, some carrying rescued prisoners from Azkaban, some carrying brooms.

It took only a few minutes before almost everyone was back.

Harry was about to inquire as to whether any had been left behind when a loud crack sounded. Wildly he thought of houselves, but it was Malfoy, a Death Eater on his arm.

As soon as both their feet hit solid ground, the Death Eater jumped back and pressed a finger to his Dark Mark.

He died an instant later as Malfoy killed him.

"He caught me just as I was going! I couldn't change course!"

"Damn it!" Harry hissed under his breath.

There were several loud _pops_ then, and someone screamed.

A flash of green.

Cho Chang's body hit the ground.

Curses lit up the night by Teddy's home, and then that home burst into flame.

"Run!" snapped Harry automatically to his son, looking back as Albus ran behind the now-burning house. Scorpious Malfoy, James, Lily, Rose, Hugo, and Phil all ran out of a side door of the burning home to follow Albus. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

They wouldn't die in the blaze, at least.

Hopefully the house would shield them from stray curses.

"POTTER!" boomed Voldemort.

Harry turned to see all of the Order Members falling back to guard his flanks. Voldemort stood several yards away, all of his Death Eaters behind him. For a moment, the place was quiet except for the crackling of Teddy's burning home. The two sides had formed into lines. The no-man's-land between them was empty save for the body of a Death Eater and the body of Cho. Harry felt a pang of sorrow.

He stepped forward, and so did Voldemort.

Several Death Eaters moved to follow their master, but he held up his hand.

"This is between Potter and me. Do not interfere."

"Same," said Harry, holding up a hand to stop those behind him. George Weasley and Ron both audibly groaned.

"You will not run away again, Potter. I will kill you here," snapped the Dark Lord.

"No," stated Harry, "we're leaving here; just you and me. You can take your lot with you; in fact, you're _going _to take your lot with you. We'll finish this someplace where no one else can get hurt."

"Harry, you're being mental!" roared Ron angrily.

"Shut up!" Harry returned.

"There will be no further negotiations!" hissed Voldemort. "We'll end this at this very spot, and if there are casualties, then so be it. I do not care."

In a flash, Voldemort sent a Killing Curse toward Harry who was forced to duck and roll. The Curse traveled past where he was standing, narrowly missed Neville, and brushed so closely past Ginny that it blew her hair into her face. It hit Teddy Lupin's burning house and caused the flame to burst forward.

Harry aimed his wand at Voldemort, incensed.

"You—" Harry choked, but there was no insult horrible enough to describe the Dark Lord.

Mrs. Weasley shouted a rather nice one. "YOU _DAMNED _BASTARD!"

Then both she and Harry cried _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Both of their curses missed Voldemort and he ducked out of the way. Harry's hit Dolohov square in the chest, and Mrs. Weasley's killed Yaxley.

Then, the battle really erupted.

Harry cast a shield of magic in front of him and in front of those to his left and right. Then he launched the most horrible curse he could think of, worse than the Killing Curse, at Voldemort.

The Dark Lord batted it away as though it were an insect, and retaliated with another Killing Curse. The green light exploded upon Harry's shield, and destroyed it.

It zipped right over Harry's head, diluted now, and hit Mr. Weasley in the arm.

Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees and cried in pain. His arm was missing all of its skin at the point where Voldemort's curse had hit, and the muscle below was charred black, but he was _not _dead.

Had it been a fluke?

Harry's shield had _weakened _the Killing Curse.

That was not possible!

But it didn't matter, Harry, Ron, George, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Neville, Angelina, and pretty much everyone in the vicinity sent retaliations at Lord Voldemort.

The Dark Lord Apparated before a jet of green hit him, and then everything meant for Voldemort slammed into the Death Eater who'd been standing behind him.

The man literally exploded into a mushroom cloud of fire and caused a shockwave which sent those near him to hurtling to their feet.

Harry felt a rush of air behind him, and then turned around as someone screamed loudly. Voldemort was standing upon the cliff near Teddy Lupin's burning house. He had someone in his grasp….

"MOM!" cried Albus, Lily, and James in unison.

Harry, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Malfoy, and every other Weasley that was uninjured bolted forward, running toward Voldemort while the rest of the Order held the Death Eaters at bay.

Harry and everyone with him stopped several feet short of where Voldemort stood and trained their wands on him.

"This is getting old," Malfoy sneered at Voldemort. "Hostage-taking should be beyond you, as powerful as you claim to be!"

"SILENCE!" boomed the Dark Lord.

"LET MY DAUGHTER GO!" roared Mrs. Weasley with such severity that Harry was shocked Voldemort did not flinch.

"You said this was between us, _Tom_," snapped Harry. "Leave my wife out of it, then. Be a man, for once in your life. Stop relying on hostages."

"You dare speak the name of my filthy, muggle father when I could so easily kill you wife?!" Voldemort cried, his voice constricted with rage. "You're a fool, Harry Potter! Just like Dumbledore."

"This is your last chance to let her go," warned Mrs. Weasley and Harry in unison.

"No," said Voldemort. "You killed my dear Bellatrix, Harry. You killed my most useful servant. I think it fair that something important to you die as well."

"NO!" bellowed someone Harry would never have expected to retaliate, at least in this situation.

"_You_ object, Draco?" sneered the Dark Lord. "You announce yourself a blood traitor by doing so!"

"Blood doesn't matter," Malfoy said coolly. "I'm not going to let you be responsible for destroying someone else's family."

"Ah, so it is revenge that drives you, I see. You are still feeling angry that I killed your dirty wife, and your filthy wretch of a—"

"_INCENDIO!"_

"NO!" Harry bellowed as a giant ball of flame shot from the tip of Malfoy's wand toward Voldemort _and _Ginny.

The Dark Lord immediately released his grasp on her, and vanished.

Harry watched in horror as the fire neared her.

Apparate, he thought desperately. She must do it now!

But, to Harry's intense relief, Malfoy magicked the fire out of existence.

Ginny wordlessly sprinted to the right, toward a large rock. Harry, for the first time noticed that the children were cowering behind it.

A loud crack drew Harry's attention away from the rock, and back toward the edge of the cliff. Voldemort was standing there again, but this time he was alone. His wand, however, was aimed at the rock.

"This _is_ getting old, Tom," Harry said.

"Indeed," replied Voldemort. _"EXPULSO!"_

And the rock exploded.

Rage engulfed Harry, then. Rage more powerful than anything he'd ever felt before.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _he bellowed.

"_Stupefy!" _shouted Hermione feebly, tears streaming down her face—Rose had been near the rock.

Ron copied her, McGonagall sent a jet of red toward Voldemort as well (though Harry could not be sure what it was), Neville cast a stunner, and Draco mirrored Harry, sending a Killing Curse.

Voldemort attempted to Apparate, but one stunner caught him in the arm.

Then, every single spell hit him.

He swayed on the spot for a moment, his red eyes staring into the sky.

Then, very slowly, he toppled backward and fell over the edge of the cliff.

Harry turned his attention toward the rock, not wanting to see the dead bodies that lay there. However, there were none.

Another _pop_ and suddenly Ginny, Albus, James, Lily, Hugo, Rose, Scorpious, and Phil stood before them, unscathed, and still alive.

Harry smiled, and immediately turned to face the Death Eaters, most of whom had dropped their wands.

"Voldemort is dead," Harry said to them, his voice at a normal volume for it was deathly silent. "Surrender and I promise you that I won't kill any of you as well."

Several Apparated, then, one shot a hex at Harry, but he parried it and stunned the Death Eater.

The rest who all looked unsure tossed their wands away.

They'd won.

Voldemort was dead. Albus was back in Harry's hands.

Everything was right again.


	19. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

After weeks of weeding out the remaining corruption in the Ministry, and months of continuing as Headmaster for Hogwarts, Harry was Head Auror again. There was a new Minister now, a young man of the Wizengamot who had many great ideas. All of Harry's children were at home now for summer.

Ron and Hermione, and their children were with them now at Grimmauld Place. They'd each decided to stay teaching at the school, therefore they did not work in the summer.

Harry sighed as he sat in his office, finishing his last piece of paper work.

The school year had been horrible, truly.

He'd not found a replacement for the late Aurora Sinistra before he resigned. That would be up to the new Headmaster, whoever it may be.

A funeral had been held for the Astronomy teacher, in unison with the funeral for Cho Chang. It had been a very solemn event.

The casualties of that battle had not been great, though. Harry was thankful for that. They had all feared Mr. Weasley would die later though, after Voldemort's curse hit him in the arm. However, curious and impossible as that fact was, something even more strange occurred.

Blackened, dead skin grew over the wound on Mr. Weasley's arm, and it healed up as well as it could. Although, his arm was completely dead, now. He could neither move nor feel it.

A small price to pay, Harry thought.

The worst result of the battle, however….

Harry hadn't felt ever since it happened. Using the Killing Curse did not suit him, he knew. It was a terrible thing to do, though fully justifiable. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little regret for using it because it was Voldemort's job to murder with it.

The deaths were horrible, and even though the losses were not large in quantity, they were still great.

The world, however, seemed back on track again. Everything was normal once more. All was well.


End file.
